You're an American, Harry
by GreenEyesGreySkies
Summary: What happens when Dumbledore decides to transfer all of the Hogwarts students to a muggle boarding school in America? 8th Year AU. CURRENTLY ON HOLD AND UNDER MAJOR RECONSTRUCTION. I REPEAT, ON HOLD. DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU WANT A POTENTIALLY PERPETUAL CLIFFHANGER.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hello! So I'm starting another fic, because I feel like it. Please enjoy!**

**Credit for characters goes to J.K. Rowling, as usual! You know, because they're hers, and all. I'm just borrowing. **

Chapter 1

"What do you mean we're not students at Hogwarts anymore?" Draco demanded loudly, standing up from the Slytherin table in the Great Hall in a dramatic, exaggerated motion. Many other students, not all of them from Slytherin, accompanied him in protest and bewilderment. "We're here right now!"

Dumbledore raised his hands up to calm the students and gestured for them to sit again. They didn't. He continued anyway. "As I was saying before, you are no longer students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry… because this year we will all be traveling abroad!" There were many murmurs of shock and confusion circling the room as Dumbledore went on. "You will all be enrolled as students at a Muggle American academy called Redmond."

Indignant shouts arose from the Slytherin table at the word 'muggle'.

Draco scowled. "This is preposterous, a muggle school with Americans? Wait 'til my father hears about this, he'll never allow me to go!" he announced loudly.

Dumbledore smiled benignly at him. "All of your parents have already given their permission to let you go."

Draco gawked at him and sat down slowly as more and more students stood up in objection._ Father...? He hates muggles!_ He sighed. Ever since Potter defeated the Dark Lord last summer and testified positively for them (resulting in their escape from a lengthy sentence to Azkaban), his father had been trying extremely hard to get on society's good side again. This must be another one of his ploys. Draco glared at the table silently. He was grateful to be alive and free, he really was. But he truly hated when his father sucked him into one of his good citizen acts.

Dumbledore was still talking despite the increasing chaos. "This is a school assignment for all of you. Study abroad in America and act as muggles for a school year. This will help you prepare for future encounters you may have working alongside muggles."

Draco rolled his eyes. Of course the old man was promoting muggle toleration. The Wizarding world had just gotten out of a war over it for Merlin's sake, thanks to Potter. _Speaking of Potter… _Draco glanced up casually at the Gryffindor table. Potter's green eyes were fixed on Dumbledore. He didn't look angry, but he didn't seem particularly keen on the idea either. Draco idly wondered whether or not the acclaimed Golden Boy had any opinion at all.

Dumbledore raised his voice higher over the commotion. "Of course, magic cannot be done in the presence of muggles, so only 6th years and older will be permitted to keep their wands. I do believe that they are all capable of controlling their magic discreetly in case of emergency. You shall not be punished for using magic whilst at Redmond, unless it is terribly dangerous and hazardous to anyone's well being. Still, use it sparingly. The point of this assignment is to learn how to live as muggle as possible."

Draco sighed in exasperation. Limited magic use? He was starting to hate this more and more by the second. Well, at least he'd get to keep his wand, seeing as this _was _essentially his 8th year.

"In the morning you shall all receive room assignments, as this is a boarding school. There will be four to a room, and I have made sure that your dorm mates will all be from Hogwarts, so those who are 6th year and older will not have to keep your magic in check at all times. Unfortunately, the dorms at Redmond are not separated by gender, so you may have a dorm mate or two of the opposite sex."

There were a few excited whispers about that. Draco raised his eyebrows but said nothing. It didn't matter to him, because he was impervious to romance of all sorts and so therefore this was just another trial to him. A stupid, hormonal trial, in his opinion. Memories of 4th year, or as he liked to call it, 'The Year Everybody Went Insane', were banned and void as an unspoken rule in the Slytherin House, mostly because that was the year that Draco had been young and naive and had attempted going around with a couple of girls. It didn't work, obviously, and thank Merlin. The whole idea of dating just repelled him, sort of like the way decent style repelled Potter or table manners repelled Weasley. Draco even liked to refer to himself as an emotionless rock. (Pansy had called him that once as an insult, but he had actually taken a liking to it. Or rather, he pretended to just to get on her nerves.) Besides, girls didn't really capture his interest much.

Dumbledore smiled and shook his head at the change of atmosphere among the students. "But that doesn't mean that you won't be regularly checked on upon by various professors, as well as yours truly. Coincidentally enough, our staff all have miraculously been able to join the staff at Redmond."

Dumbledore's eyes sparkled with delight, and Draco frowned. Sometimes the Headmaster scared him. Just a little.

"I will leave you all to your meals. After dinner, you may begin packing and saying your good-byes to your Housemates. May I remind you that Redmond will not have Houses, so I can guarantee that your new dorm mates will not all be your current ones."

Draco groaned at that, although he had half-expected it from the beginning. How else would Dumbledore have forced House unity upon the students? Everybody knew that that was what he was going for with this ridiculous plan, anyway. He glanced over at Blaise, who shot him a nervous look. Draco would be okay with anyone else he got dumped with, but he _had_ to have Blaise around. He didn't know what he would do without his best friend and fellow Slytherin.

Blaise scooted closer to him. "Do you reckon that we'll be put in the same dorm?" the dark-haired boy asked, nervously observing his cleanly cut fingernails.

Draco shrugged. "Don't know. But we better, or I'll hex a bint."

Blaise grinned. "I'm going to be hexing them left and right anyway. We're going to a bloody muggle school! And worse, they're _American_. Damn, they're the worst kind of muggles. I've heard they're the most obnoxious ones out there."

Draco frowned. "Where is the school again?"

"Redmond academy in California. I believe that I've been there, once. Some bloke with intensely spiked hair informed me that my Slytherin House ring was 'hella sick bro', and I swear to Merlin, I was _this close _to hexing his balls off. Honestly, what the hell does that even mean?"

Draco scoffed. "We're going to have to fit in there, you know. So you might as well just go around saying that all the time now."

Blaise stuck his tongue out at him in response, and the two boys ate the rest of their meal in silence. Draco tried not to think about Redmond at all, because he knew that it would only make him nervous and he did not want to admit to being nervous about attending a Muggle school. But the idea continued to swarm in his brain until he thought he was going to be sick. He pushed his food away and sulked morosely. When both boys were finished with their meals, Blaise and Draco looked at each other, nodded, and got up to go back to the Slytherin dorms together.

**~x~**

Harry sighed loudly as he sat down on the couch in the Gryffindor common room after dinner, looking up and smiling at Ron and Hermione as they made to join him on the opposite couch.

"Can you believe it, Harry?" Hermione asked excitedly, for the third time since they'd come back from dinner. "A muggle school! This is so exciting! I'll be able to teach you guys so many things about culture and social norms, oh, it'll be loads of fun!"

Ron glanced at Harry and rolled his eyes from behind her. "Yeah, we can't wait," he deadpanned, earning a dirty look from Hermione before she stomped away to gush about it with the Patil sisters. When she was gone, the redhead sighed and nudged Harry's arm.

"Do you think we'll be in the same dorm?" he asked, nervously picking at the lint on his sweater.

Harry shrugged. He doubted that Dumbledore would be dense enough to put him in the same dorm with either Ron or Hermione, since he was trying to get the students to branch out. But he could dream, couldn't he? "I hope so. It would be nice to at least have another Gryffindor around all year."

Ron nodded in agreement. "Imagine if I got paired up with all Slytherins, mate," he said.

They both shuddered.

"What if_ I_ started hanging out with a bunch of Slytherins?" Harry asked, and the two boys looked at each other and chuckled. It wasn't like he particularly had many malevolent feelings towards Slytherins anymore since the war was over (besides the fact that they were extremely conniving and sneaky and often got on his nerves), but it was certainly a ridiculous idea. Harry Potter and the Slytherins, hanging out. What a laugh.

"What if _I _became _friends_ with Slytherins?" Ron laughed.

"What if _I_ became friends with _Malfoy_?" Harry countered, and now the both of them were holding their stomachs in laughter.

"Oh oh, what if you started _fancying Malfoy?" _Ron hooted, and Harry started choking violently.

"Oh Merlin, that's not even okay to joke about," he sputtered.

As Ron calmed down, he clapped a hand on Harry's back with a giant grin on his face.

"You've got to admit, that was a good one."

- - -  
>Later that night, Harry was wandering around the castle under his cloak, trying to memorise every little detail of the school. He couldn't sleep. It might be true that the school swap was only for a year, but this was Harry's last year at Hogwarts. As an 8th year, he and his friends wouldn't be coming back. This was their last night as Hogwarts students...well, <em>ever<em>. Harry rubbed his eyes and tried to ignore how his chest tightened with sorrow. A lot of shit had gone down over the years here at Hogwarts, but he didn't regret any of it. He would miss every bit of it.

Harry then caught sight of a dusty old tapestry he had never really noticed hanging on the wall and crept closer to get a better look at it, since he probably would never get to see it again after tonight. And without looking, he tripped on something on the floor and toppled over with a soft 'oomph'. When he stood up, he found himself invisible face to face with a very annoyed Draco Malfoy, who had his hands planted on his slender hips. Harry held his breath as the other boy glared in his general direction.

"Potter!" the blond spat. "I know it's you out there. Show yourself immediately!"

Harry sighed. _Guess the game's up._ He whipped off the cloak with a light whoosh and tucked it into his pocket. Then he looked up at Malfoy with an expectant gaze.

"You rang?"

Malfoy looked surprised for a moment to see him, as if he hadn't actually believed that he was there, but his usual mask returned in an instant. "What are you doing out right now, Potter? It's after curfew! I'm going to have to take 10 points from Gryffindor for your behaviour."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Malfoy, it's not like House points even matter anymore."

Malfoy opened his mouth to counter that, but nothing came out for once. Taking away points from Gryffindor was one of the snotty Slytherin's favourite pastimes, and now that was being taken from him. Harry suddenly felt the need to giggle maniacally and dance around in a circle around the dumbfounded boy, but then he thought that might be just a tad immature, even for him.

"Damn it," Malfoy finally responded, glaring at the floor.

"Yeah," Harry murmured. "It's our last night at Hogwarts. Ever."

Malfoy glanced up at him as though he had just realised that. "I never thought of it that way," he commented with a pensive expression that Harry had never seen before on the other boy's normally sneering face. "It's kind of bittersweet, isn't it?"

Taken aback by Malfoy's conversational tone, Harry just nodded slowly at him. He'd never heard the boy speak to him in any manner that wasn't vicious, wrathful, smug, or spiteful, and it was sort of disconcerting. Malfoy looked a bit surprised at himself, too. The ends of his mouth were tugged down and his fingers twitched by his side as if he were going to say something else to make the whole thing seem less, well... less _pleasant. _And since Harry didn't particularly want to get into yet another fight tonight, he decided that it was time to leave.

"Um, well, g'nite," Harry mumbled, pulling the cloak back out and draping it over himself, not wanting the other boy to see the surely confused expression on his face.

And after a few moments, Malfoy awkwardly waved in his general invisible direction.

"Er, night, Potter."

Harry walked back to Gryffindor tower with a slight frown now developing on his face. That was... weird. They'd actually had a legitimate conversation, with no hexing or insults or brutal and/or physical contact. Well, it was all of about two sentences, but still... _what?_ Harry shuffled into his room and climbed into bed to pull the covers over him, lying still and chewing on his lip thoughtfully. Well, the war _was_ over and they really weren't on opposing sides or anything anymore. Maybe it was time to do the mature thing and befriend the blond prat... Harry shook his head and laughed, despite himself_. _

_Malfoy and I, friends?_ He snorted to himself in the darkness as he imagined it, slowly lulling into dreamland. _When pigs fly._

__**~x~**

The next morning, Draco shifted around nervously in his seat at the Slytherin table as he waited to hear his room assignment. He had been become incredibly antsy ever since Pansy had informed him that the students were to board some muggle contraption called an airplane and somehow fly over to the States in it. Of course, this sounded completely absurd to Draco. Why should they have to fly all the way over there in some strange muggle thing when they could just _Apparate_? Draco had just gotten his license and was annoyed that he would not be able to use it. Not like he would be able to at Hogwarts either, but still. It was stupid. And he wanted a reason to complain, damn it.

He turned to watch as Millicent Bulstrode, who was sitting a couple seats down, yelled and waved her wand around like a maniac. She'd broken it just the night before and now her magic was all out of sorts, and had also created a massive fiasco in the Slytherin dorms this morning. Of course, she couldn't get a new one now and she would have to spend the year with a mangled wand. He felt sorry for her, but she really need to stop shrieking. It was hurting his ears, and really, it wasn't that fucking dramatic. (Although, he'd probably create an even bigger fuss if it were him.)

Draco glanced around the room some more and surveyed Potter drag his trunk alongside his friends, looking thoroughly exhausted. He smirked a little at the thought of the other boy getting the very little sleep that he did. _That's what he gets for staying out after curfew._ Of course, Draco was entirely unreceptive to the effects of sleep deprivation, so his lack of sleep didn't affect him at all. He had trained himself to be impervious to those types of things and he was a Malfoy, for Merlin's sake. He could do whatever the fuck he wanted to.

Draco took a moment to think about what Potter had said the night before. He hadn't exactly realised it prior to when the other boy had mentioned it, but they truly wouldn't be coming back. Draco hadn't always loved going to school here, but still, it was his childhood. He grew up at Hogwarts, so it was only natural for him to become a bit attached, although he tried not to get too sad about it. The moment between him and Potter was weird enough; he didn't need to add to the list of 'Feelings That Draco Trained Himself Not To Feel'. That included discomfort, misery, sentimentality, and of course, love. All incredibly absurd emotions, and he would never need them.

Dumbledore stood up at the podium to get the attention of the students. "Your room assignment and dorm mates will appear on a scrap of parchment in front of you. After you receive them please meet up with your dorm mates, as you will be traveling with them. Remember that the ones you will be paired up with will be your classmates and advisors for the entire year. I trust that you will become fast friends with them. So good-bye, good luck, and I will see you all next at Redmond academy!" Dumbledore clapped his hands and tiny scraps of parchment appeared in front of the students as he disappeared in a colourful mist.

Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath before glancing down at his assignments. A moment later, he dropped it in horror.

"Aw, we didn't get paired up," Blaise commented, observing at his own parchment. "But I got paired with Pansy! So that's good. Who did you get?"

Draco couldn't speak. He slid the parchment across the table to Blaise, who grabbed at it eagerly. Draco watched as the other boy's eyes became wider and wider as he read each name. His eyes were like saucers when he reached the last one.

"Finnigan, Finch-Fletchley and... AHAHAHAH WHAT'S THIS? MERLIN'S BALLS, _POTTER_? OH SWEET SALAZAR, THAT IS PRICELESS, " Blaise hooted, slamming the parchment down on the table and wiping amused tears from his eyes.

Draco stared at him grimly and didn't say a word.

"Two Gryffindors and a Hufflepuff. Damn luck," Blaise said, still laughing.

Draco just turned and looked over at the Gryffindor table to find Potter watching him with an expression that surely matched his own.

**~x~**

Harry's gaze had been fixed on Malfoy the moment he had read the other boy's name on his own parchment, and he sighed when Malfoy glanced up at him in horror. But of course they were put in the same dorm, he should've known! This was probably Dumbledore's doing. The tricky Headmaster always liked to stir up trouble, and he probably thought that this arrangement would somehow force him and Malfoy to become friends. Well, it wasn't going to work, judging by the disgusted look on Malfoy's face. Harry felt a little like throwing up himself. And he couldn't even think of complaining about it now, since Dumbledore had strategically disappeared in his little cloud of colour before the assignments came out just so that he could avoid the obvious chaos he had created. Harry pouted.

Ron nudged his shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts. "I've got Hermione, Dean, and Luna! Who have you got?"

Harry gave him a dejected look. "Seamus, Justin, and Malfoy," he told him, in a monotone voice.

Ron made a face, but patted his friend on the back sympathetically. "At least you've got Seamus and Justin, mate," the redhead tried.

Harry just shrugged.

Ron was about to say something else, but stopped as his gaze shifted to something over Harry's head. His blue eyes widened with excitement. "Bloody hell, what's _that_?"

Harry turned around and observed Millicent Bulstrode swinging her broken wand around in the air, desperately trying to vanish a creature that was flying around the Slytherin table. He frowned and glanced at Malfoy, who had his face in his palm.

Ron pointed at it with glee. "Harry, look! It's a flying pig!"

Harry's forehead hit the table with a loud crash.

_Of course._

**(Another) Author's Note: Just so you know, I have nothing against Americans. I am one, in fact, and I'm just having a good time making fun of us. There'll probably be a lot more of that in the coming chapters. And I have no idea what Redmond is, I just made it up. So if it's real, that's just awesome. Anyways, did you like it? Will you review? …Please? :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I don't really know guys. Just go with it. **

Chapter 2

"Merlin's _beard!_ We're not actually going to get on that thing, are we?" Malfoy asked, gaping at the airplane just outside the window.

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes, not bothering to answer. Once the students had reached the airport, everyone had separated into their dorm groups and parted to different sections of the airport and Seamus, Justin, Harry and Malfoy were currently waiting at Terminal A14 for their flight. Malfoy had formerly been studiously ignoring the other three boys, and they had all been just fine with that. But as their flight time approached, the blond was becoming more and more anxious by the minute, even so much as to grace the rest of them with his constant (and annoying!) comments.

Harry leaned back in the chair he was sitting in and closed his eyes. He was already exhausted from traveling, and they'd only left Hogwarts about an hour ago. How in the world was he supposed to function for the next _year? _Going through security had been hell, especially since Malfoy had been stopped for having too many ounces of hair gel and when asked to dispose of it, the furious Slytherin had almost tried to hex everyone in the area. Harry had to wrestle with Malfoy to keep the wand in his sleeve and play it off like he was just pulling the other boy's arm just for the fun of it. It had to have been an utterly ridiculous sight, and Malfoy certainly wasn't making it better by continuing to make a fuss long after. Harry had had to keep a hold of his arm for a good ten minutes, for Merlin's sake! And to make things worse, by the time the third person informed him and Malfoy of what a cute couple they made, Harry had obtained a seemingly permanent flush. Seamus and Justin found this to be most amusing, but Harry just wanted to die.

"Potter?"

Harry opened his eyes as Malfoy nervously tugged on his sleeve.

"What?"

"How are we supposed to travel on that?"

Harry gazed out the window in the direction that Malfoy was gesturing towards and saw a plane landing from flight. He'd almost forgotten that Malfoy had never seen anything like it before and now dreaded having to explain every little thing to the sheltered wizard. He rolled his eyes and sighed.

"We're going to be inside, not on it."

Draco's eyes enlarged, almost comically. "_Inside_?"

Justin chuckled and leaned over from his seat, his eyes sparkling mischievously at the chance to pull one over on the Slytherin.

"Yeah, it eats you. That's the only way you can get inside."

Seamus giggled and joined in. "Oh, and if you're blond, you have to be in the section with all the commoners. You can't sit with us."

Draco took one look at his three brown-haired companions and gasped, utterly dismayed at this new information. "What the hell? I refuse! No fucking way! I'm going home and I will tell my father _all_ about this, and he will sue the_ fuck_ out of—"

Harry raised his eyebrows at his two friends, who were both practically falling out of their seats together in laughter. As much as he would like to make fun of Malfoy as well, he knew that someone had to keep order around here. He shook his head incredulously. _Never thought I'd see the day when I became the mature one, _he thought, with some dry amusement. He turned to Malfoy and nudged his shoulder.

"Calm down. It's not going to eat you, and you won't have to sit alone. It's quite safe, trust me."

Malfoy looked unsure for a moment, then promptly returned to his conceited self. He sneered at Justin and Seamus, who were both still sniggering behind their palms. "Fine, Potter. But I will be sitting next to you, not those two buffoons, and we will _not_ be sitting with commoners."

Harry snorted. "You mean 3rd class? Because that's where our seats are."

Malfoy just looked horrified again.

**~x~**

Draco clutched the armrests of his chair on the plane and screwed his eyes shut. This was completely ridiculous! Why should they spend hours on a stupid muggle contraption when they could just use magic and be there in 2 seconds? Dumbledore was taking this 'act as a Muggle' thing entirely too far this time, and the insanity of it all was seriously starting to get to Draco. It's not like he was _afraid _or anything, this was just an awful idea and he hated it!

Potter tapped his shoulder beside him, obviously sensing his anxiety. "Relax, Malfoy. We haven't even moved yet, and you honestly have nothing to be nervous about."

Draco opened his eyes and glared at him. "Will you shut up? I'm not even nervous! Where would you even get that idea?"

Potter raised his eyebrows and gestured at something. "Okay, then why are you clawing the seat like that?"

Draco looked down and saw that his nails were attached to the scratchy fabric of the chair. He hastily released them with a nonchalant shrug. "I don't know to what you are referring, Potter," he replied, turning his nose up away from the prying Gryffindor. If he was going to admit to being nervous to anyone, it would certainly not be the fucking Golden Boy. Sure, Draco was crazy for agreeing to go on this stupid trip, but he wasn't _that_ crazy.

Potter shook his head and laughed. "Whatever, Malfoy," he said, settling back into his seat. Draco scowled at how altogether comfortable the other boy looked, and made to copy him.

After the safety regulations or whatnot had been gone over, the pilot announced that seatbelts should be fastened and that they would be taking off momentarily. Draco fumbled with his buckle nervously. He checked and rechecked that his wand was tucked discreetly in his sleeve should he need it and took a deep breath. Okay. He could handle this. If an ordinary old muggle could do it, so could he. Right? The plane jerked suddenly and Draco fell back in surprise with a shrill yelp. He widened his eyes and threw one hand over his mouth, hoping to Salazar that Potter had not just heard that. But of course, he did.

"You okay, Malfoy?" Potter whispered.

"Fine, fine," Draco answered absently, now grasping the armrest so tightly his fingers were turning white. "I'm feeling wonderful, why do you ask? Oh gods—"

The plane sped faster and faster until it suddenly launched upwards, lifting off the ground with a rough bump. Draco had a peculiarly terrifying sensation of his stomach dropping miles and miles down, farther and farther as they ascended. He looked away from the seat in front of him and caught a glimpse of the ground getting further away from him, saw the tiny ants that were people mulling around in some old parking structure far below. The higher they went, the sicker he felt. The plane suddenly jolted again, gaining speed, and Draco saw his life flash before his eyes.

"Merlin!" he shouted, causing several people around them to turn around and give him the most degrading stare he'd ever seen. He tried to sneer back at them, but the sheer terror he felt from being lifted in midair was sort of inhibiting his facial senses at the moment.

"Malfoy! Malfoy, stop freaking out! Everything's all right," Potter said, sounding exasperated.

"Hm, what? Why are you talking to me, Potter? I'm completely at ease," Draco retorted, trying to control his voice to sound composed and collected. It wasn't working particularly well.

Potter looked at him with an annoyed expression. "Oh? Then would you mind releasing your death grip on my arm?"

Draco glanced down in surprise and realised he had been clutching Potter's arm very firmly. Sheepishly, he let go of the other boy and smoothed out his own jumper.

"Completely at ease," he repeated weakly.

Potter snorted. "Right."

**~x~**

Harry heaved a sigh of relief as they walked out of the airport and into the California sun, grateful to be off the airplane and a reasonable distance away from Malfoy. Throughout the entire ride the other boy had changed moods every two minutes, ranging from absolute terror to panicked irrationality to bored nagging to cruel sarcasm. It drove Harry bonkers. He'd be trying to read his novel and Malfoy would tug on his sleeve and whisper furiously, 'Do you think that if we had too many passengers, the plane would fall apart?' or 'that man over there! Do you see him? I reckon he's got a knife in his pocket, look at his face! Isn't it scary? Oh—oh shit, he's looking! Quick, pretend to be reading!'

And then there was that incident when the stewardess came along and asked for their drink orders, and somehow she and Malfoy got in a tiff about the menu so Harry had to break it up, while _also_ desperately attempting to keep Malfoy and his wand at bay with a tight grip on the boy's wand sleeve. The annoyed stewardess had told Harry to 'control his boyfriend' and stomped off, and then everyone sitting around them had turned and stared at them. And of course, Malfoy had made a giant fuss over that too and Harry had just slumped down in his seat, wishing he had his invisibility cloak handy.

Harry tried to forget his previous irritation and breathed in a mouthful of fresh air, smiling. He'd never been to the States before, but Merlin, his first impression was a good one. He looked around and saw abundant, green vegetation and a cloudless cerulean sky. The warm air was also a really nice change from the usual crisp climate back at home. All in all, it was pretty nice. He supposed that he wouldn't mind_ too_ much spending his year here, if he had to spend it away from Hogwarts.

Seamus came up behind him and clapped a hand on his back. "Pretty neat, isn't it? I heard the school is just like this: lovely landscape, plenty of countryside."

Harry nodded in approval. "Sounds like my kind of place."

"Mine too," Justin agreed, gazing at his surroundings in a satisfied manner.

Malfoy sniffed haughtily. "Not mine."

Harry rolled his eyes, opting to ignore Malfoy again as he motioned them towards the bus. "Let's get going, guys."

After a lot of complaining (on Malfoy's part) and confusion, the boys were dropped off at Redmond 20 minutes later with their luggage in hand. As they got off the bus, Seamus widened his eyes and whistled at their surroundings. "Whoa guys, take a look at this!"

Harry gazed upon the grounds in awe. It was a fairly large campus, the main part consisting of primarily bright red buildings scattered about in a lush field of grass. Students mulled around the area, some studying in clusters under sizeable trees and benches, a few tossing a ball around in open area. Harry looked farther out and observed a quaint spot that looked like a small town with shops and restaurants. Overall, it appeared to be a rather upscale academy, with plenty of friendly faces and things to do. He smiled, suddenly feeling a lot better about spending the year here.

Harry looked at Malfoy, noticing that even he was impressed by the school. He nudged his shoulder. "Pretty good for muggles, eh?" Malfoy only nodded in response, still seemingly taken by the campus.

Seamus tugged at Harry's sleeve. "Come on! Let's go see our room!"

After a bit more sightseeing, the group made their way to Structure 4B across campus where their dorms were located. As they approached the building, Harry heard someone shouting and whirled around to find Ron running towards him with a broad smile. "Hey, mate! Are you in this building too?"

Harry grinned back. "Yeah!"

Ron pumped a fist in the air. "Yes! Brilliant luck, isn't it?"

Harry nodded in agreement and gave Ron another huge smile. He had been very afraid that he would have to go through this experience without his best friends, and was now highly relieved to know that they would be living near him. "Yeah," he glanced over as Ron's roommates walked up, "Hey Hermione, Dean, Luna!" They all gave him warm greetings back.

Hermione looked as if she was going to burst with excitement. "This campus is so lovely, I can't wait to explore it!" she gushed.

Harry heard someone snort softly at that behind him, and he turned to realise that it was Malfoy. Ron heard it too, and whirled around to face the ex-Slytherin menacingly. "What are you laughing at, Ferret?" he growled.

Malfoy frowned and sneered at him. "None of your business, Weasel," he spat back.

It was then that Harry noticed that Malfoy had been standing apart from the group while everyone was embracing and greeting each other, and he realised how awkward that must've been. It seemed that Malfoy had nearly no friends around here. What if it were _Harry_ that was going through the same thing? That would be awful. Feeling an unexpected rush of guilt for being not being inclusive, he stepped in between Ron and Malfoy to mediate.

"Hey, come on. He hasn't hurt anybody by laughing. Let's all just go inside, okay? I want to see what our rooms look like."

Ron grumbled in acceptance and shot another dirty look at Malfoy before turning his back to him stubbornly and walking towards the building himself.

Sighing, Harry looked at Malfoy, who was gazing at him with an inquiring expression, and shrugged. "Come on, let's go," he said tiredly, gesturing for the other boy to follow him.

As a group, they all entered the building and searched for their rooms. Harry discovered that Ron, Hermione, Luna and Dean were just down the hall from them, which pleased him very much. And fortunately for Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott and Neville were also on their floor, so at least the blond prat had _some_ fellow Slytherins around him. Harry shot a sympathetic look at Neville, who looked absolutely miserable as he followed his Slytherin roommates to their dorm. Gods, he felt bad for him. He didn't know what he would do if _he_ were stuck with those three all year.

When Harry wandered into their new living quarters, he gasped. It was quite spacious for a school dorm; much more so than their old ones at Hogwarts and the walls were a dusty caramel colour with elegant gold trim lining that appeared as though it had cost a fortune. There were two sets of comfortable-looking bunk beds diagonal from each other at opposite sides of the room and a fireplace crackled merrily in the back. A small set of chairs and a loveseat surrounded the fireplace, and a few desks lined the walls nearby for studying.

It looked rather like a small cabin, and Harry shook his head in disbelief. It was hardly resembled a typical boarding school. It seemed more similar to a resort or something. Harry grinned as Justin and Seamus whooped and ran towards the couches, evidently equally pleased with the room, then sank down into a chair right next to the large brick fireplace and sighed in contentment. He could definitely get used to this.

**~x~**

Draco inspected the room and smiled with approval. If he _had _to be forced to attend some American muggle school, this would surely do. Anyway, he was interested in surveying more of the campus, as he had quite enjoyed the posh surroundings he'd already seen. If this wasn't a muggle establishment and a school, he was sure that he and his family would have visited this place a long time ago. Everything about it was absolutely beautiful, even for a Malfoy's taste.

"Hey, where's the bathroom?" Finnigan exclaimed loudly, glancing about the room. Draco looked around as well and shrugged. Finch-Fletchley got up and peered out into the hall for a moment, then nodded as if he had confirmed his own suspicions.

"It's a communal bathroom a couple doors down."

Draco gasped in horror. "A _communal_ bathroom? You_ have_ to be joking!"

Finch-Fletchley raised an eyebrow at him and smirked a little. "Nope, not at all. Looks like ickle Malfoy has to learn to share," he teased, with a wicked grin.

"Don't make fun of Malfoy, Justin," Potter called out from across the room. "He isn't used to stuff like that. And we're supposed to help each other adapt, right?"

Finch-Fletchley nodded, looking just a bit chagrinned. Trust Harry Potter to lecture some sense into his friends. "You're right, Harry," he said, before plopping down on one of the bottom bunk beds. "Anyways, we should figure out who sleeps where."

Draco stared at Potter in bewilderment. This was the second time that the other boy had stuck up for him, and both times it had been to one of the Gryffindor's friends! Now what was that all about? Potter couldn't _genuinely_ want to keep up House Unity, did he? But then, why was he being so agreeable with him? Draco knew that he'd been a total nightmare to sit next to on the plane, and it was obviously no secret that the two of them didn't have the cleanest history. Okay, they had a terrible, _terrible_ history. So why?

Draco's thoughts were interrupted when Finnigan waved a hand in front of his face. "Hello? Malfoy? What's your number?"

Draco blinked at him dumbly. "Excuse me?"

Finnigan sighed. "He wasn't listening. I told you," he yelled over his shoulder to the other boys before turning back to Draco, as if he were proving some kind of point. "We're choosing beds. I'm thinking of a number and whoever gets the closest gets to pick first. So think a number between 1 and 100."

Draco shrugged. "Um, 45?"

Finnigan smirked. "All right. Harry?"

"Er, 7."

"Justin?"

"67."

Finnigan smiled. "The number was 70. So Justin, you choose."

Finch-Fletchley pointed to the bottom bed of one of the bunks. "This one. Now, I'll think of a number and whoever gets closest will choose second… Seamus?"

"34!"

"How about you, Harry?"

"10…"

"And Malfoy?"

"90?"

Finch-Fletchley shook his head and laughed. "Merlin Malfoy, you and Harry are terrible at this. The number was 35."

Finnigan jumped up and down excitedly. "I get top bunk then!" He climbed up to sit on the bed above Finch-Fletchley's, beaming triumphantly.

Draco looked over at Potter. "Guess that just leaves us."

Potter nodded. "Yeah."

Finnigan grinned. "All right, which bed do you want, boys?"

"Top."

Draco looked over at Potter in surprise as the word was spoken simultaneously. Finch-Fletchley giggled.

"Uh oh."

Finnigan just watched with a giant grin on his face.

Draco frowned. He knew that he and Potter would get in a lot of disagreements while they were living here, but he didn't realise that it would happen so fast, and over something so trivial, too. It almost wasn't worth it. He shook his head. But he'd be damned if he let Boy Wonder get what he wanted that easily. He would put up a fight, because that's what he always did.

"Uh, no, Potter, _I_ get top bunk."

Potter got up and strode across the room so that they were face to face and smiled pleasantly. "I don't think so, Malfoy."

Draco quirked an eyebrow at him. "_I _think so, Potter."

Potter chuckled. "I think you'd be better off on the bottom, Malfoy."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

Potter shrugged and bit his lip. "I don't know, what do you think it means?"

"Are you implying that I am bottom material, Potter?"

"I never said that, Malfoy."

"Yes you did!"

"No, _you _said that."

"What? No I didn't, stop that!"

"Stop what?"

"Just shut up Potter! _I'm_ getting the top bunk!"

"I don't think s—"

"No, you _don't _think at all, you brainless git!"

Finnigan got up and motioned for them to relax. "As much fun as it is to listen to you guys bicker all day, this fighting needs to stop. And Harry, weren't you the one who said that we all needed to help each other out while we're here? Just a thought. You can just share the top bunk if you both want it so much. How about that?"

Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust. There was _no way_ he was sharing with that annoying bespectacled prat. He'd rather hex himself to sing muggle show tunes.

"Ew, no."

"Well there's no other way to settle this—"

"Fine, I'll take the bloody bottom bunk," Draco grumbled. Damn Potter, always getting what he wanted.

Potter laughed. "So you're bottom!"

Draco took out his wand and pointed it at him threateningly. He knew that the other boy had actually defended him a couple of times, but that wasn't going to stop him from hexing the living daylights out of the dumb prat if he deserved it. "Shut the hell up, Potter!"

The green-eyed boy narrowed his eyes in response, but before he could do anything, there was a voice at the door.

"Hey! Are you the new guys?"

Draco jumped at the noise and accidentally whipped his wand across the room, causing it to land on the floor right next to the stranger's feet. He widened his eyes and made a sputtering noise before promptly backing up from his spot and pretending that it wasn't him who threw it. Potter snorted and murmured, "smooth." Draco scowled at him.

When he looked up again, he discovered that the voice belonged to a tall, smiling blond boy standing at their door. He was wearing faded, baggy denims and a t-shirt that read 'billabong', whatever the hell that meant. Draco eyed him up and down, silently judging him with his gaze. What kind of person just went around knocking on stranger's doors to say hello to the new guys? That was highly suspicious. Draco would have to keep an eye on him.

The boy smiled at them. "Hi I'm Scott, I live next door." Then he looked at the floor, bending down to pick up Draco's wand off of the floor. He twirled it in between his fingers for good measure, then looked up at him. "Um, I think you dropped this, man." Draco mumbled something incoherent and tried to reach for the wand, but Scott had already started inspecting it with a curious expression on his face. "What is it, anyway?"

Draco just stared at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to say. What the hell was he supposed to tell him? That it was a magic wand he had out because he wanted to hex Potter for being a git and calling him a bottom? That would obviously not do. He scratched his head and glanced around at his roommates, who were all watching him with amused expressions on their faces. He made a point to glare at each one of them specifically for having a laugh at his expense. Nobody laughs at a Malfoy's expenses, _ever._ They would all pay.

But luckily for him, Potter eventually came to his rescue and held a hand out to Scott. "Hi I'm Harry, and this is Seamus and Justin."

The other two boys waved. "Hey," Finch-Fletchley said. Finnigan gave a short nod.

Potter then smiled and gestured towards Draco. "And this is the oh so graceful Malfoy—er, Draco—Malfoy."

Draco nodded slightly, with a grimace. "Hey, how you doing," he mumbled quickly. He turned away before Scott could remember that he had asked him a question earlier.

Scott nodded back and then smiled at Potter. "I didn't realise that you guys were English, yeah? That's so cool, I always liked those accents! I used to pretend I had one when I was a kid. Anyways, it's good to meet you guys. If you need any help around campus or something, don't hesitate to knock on my door."

Potter grinned back. "Brilliant, thanks. It's good to meet you as well."

Scott laughed. "Damn, that accent! I love it. Oh and here," He tossed the wand back at Draco. "Catch!"

"Merlin!—oh oops er I mean, shit!" Draco bit his lip anxiously at his slip-up and tried to grab for the wand, but it ended up bouncing off his arm and onto the floor. He hastily picked it up and pretended to be enthralled in a mote of dust floating by Potter's head to avoid further conversation. Gods, why was he so awkward lately? Malfoys were never awkward. This would not do.

Scott raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "You Brits," he remarked, shaking his head. "Well, I'll see you guys around!"

After the door closed, all three of Draco's roommates went up to him and simultaneously smacked him on the shoulder.

"Ow! What? I _did_ try!" Draco protested, rubbing his arm with a grumble.

Potter snickered and hit him again, in the same place. Draco gave him a particularly nasty sneer.

"You're horrible at being a muggle, Malfoy," Potter teased.

Draco scoffed at that. "Obviously. I do have class, you know."

Finnigan rolled his eyes and motioned towards their bags. "Sure you do, Malfoy. Come on guys, we better unpack. We've got a busy schedule coming up."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Hi! So I know I should be updating my other fic, The Way We Almost Weren't, but I honestly feel like writing this one right now instead. So hopefully you can wait just a tad longer for TWWAW (if you're even reading it).**

Chapter 3

"So, who votes we go take a look around this brilliant campus?" Harry asked, after they all had finished unpacking their belongings and were lounging around on their bunks.

"Me!"

"Me too!"

"I suppose I, as well."

Harry climbed down from his bed and nodded towards the exit. "Then let's go, guys."

Just as they were all heading out, the door swung open to reveal an excited-looking Ron. "Hey guys!" the redhead chirped, waving around a piece of golden rod parchment. "We've found a list of activities for students! Look—clubs, contests, trips—and they've even got sports! Not Quidditch obviously but there's so many choices like swimming and this one called basketball that Dad mentioned one time—do you remember Harry? You were there—anyway, it's all quite excellent except they don't even have rugby, bloody Americans, I don't get why not, and—"

Harry chuckled and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Breathe between words, Ron. And get to the point."

Ron took a deep breath and nodded. "Right. Basically what I'm trying to say is, we should all go out and explore a bit and maybe sign up for a couple of things."

"We were just on our way out to do that, mate!" Seamus piped up. Ron brightened. "Brilliant! Let me just go get everybody else and we can go."

Malfoy cleared his throat from behind Justin. "Don't you think it'd be a bit odd if we all went together?" Everyone turned and stared at him questioningly. Malfoy puffed up, as if attempting to appear stuck-up, but Harry thought he just looked uneasy. "I mean we don't want to look out of place or anything. We're supposed to be blending in, remember?" he added.

Ron rolled his eyes and agreed begrudgingly. "He's right, unfortunately. I suppose we should split up into groups." He looked around the group. "All right, Seamus can go with—"

"Dean!" Seamus interrupted loudly. Dean stuck his head out from the doorway of his dorm room and shot him a big smile.

"I'll go with them," Justin added, throwing an arm around Seamus's shoulders.

"Me too!" Neville appeared from behind Ron, looking flustered. Harry shook his head. The poor lad probably wanted to escape his Slytherin dorm mates from hell.

A dainty, jingling voice spoke up from behind Neville. "I'd like to go on my own and search for Nargles. Do you suppose they have them here?" Luna asked.

Ron smiled at her. "I don't know. But all right, and then where's Hermione? Oh there you are Hermione—" Hermione waved as she walked up to the group. "Hi. Are we all ready to go?" Harry glanced around at the remaining people, and nodded. "Almost. That leaves Ron, Hermione, Malfoy, and me. We'll go together."

Harry caught Malfoy making a face and Ron shook his head. "No, mate. You know that's not a good idea. Malfoy and I—"

"—would rip each other's balls off," Malfoy finished smoothly.

Ron raised an eyebrow and nodded. "Exactly. So I guess it'll be me and Hermione, and you and Malfoy—"

"Aw come on!" Harry protested. "Why can't we all just get along?" Malfoy snorted. "Yes! Let us all hold hands and skip and bake cakes filled with rainbows and smiles and just eat and be happy muggles!" he said, with exaggerated enthusiasm and a huge fake grin.

Harry shot him a withering look. "Don't be a prat."

Malfoy threw his hands up in mock frustration. "Of course! You're the one complaining about having to spend a bit of time with me, and _I'm_ the prat! That makes perfect sense!"

Harry rolled his eyes and turned back to Ron. "Do you see what I have to deal with here? Please, for the love of Merlin, just let us join you!" Ron laughed. "Don't be so dramatic. Go on then, explore."

Harry glared at him and turned back to Malfoy. "Listen, if you try any stupid ploys to provoke me—"

Malfoy smiled innocently. "You'll do what?"

Harry sighed. "Never mind. Let's just go. And I repeat, don't you dare hex me or anything."

Malfoy smirked. "Scared, Potter?"

Harry opened his mouth to reply when Ron cut him off with an aggravated look. "Harry, if you so much as think about saying 'you wish', I swear to Merlin that _I _will hex you myself."

Harry clamped his mouth shut. Damn it. That was his only good comeback.

**~x~**

Draco sighed impatiently and tapped his foot. "Potter, will you come on?" Potter ignored him and continued to watch the game being played on the field. "Potter," Draco complained again, tugging on his sleeve. "Come _on_."

Potter shook him off. "Stop it, Malfoy. I want to watch this."

Draco rolled his eyes. "What is it, anyway?"

Potter didn't look at him. "Americans call it soccer."

Draco observed the field briefly and furrowed his brow in confusion. "You mean football."

"No, soccer."

Draco frowned and shook his head. "Americans," he muttered. "What the hell is so fascinating about it anyway?"

Potter shrugged. "I don't know, it's different. I like it." His eyes were trained on a medium-sized black and white ball being kicked around by the various players.

Draco tugged on his sleeve again. "Fantastic. Now let's go." Potter gave an exasperated sigh and reluctantly let Draco pull him away from the field. "Damn, you're pushy. Fine, where do you want to go?"

Draco thought for a moment. "Let's go check out the little village." Potter looked over and nodded. "All right. Let go of my sleeve."

"Huh? Oh," Draco didn't realize he was still holding on to the other boy. He let his grip go and began walking towards the town area. "Come on. I want to see if there are any good shops. I mean, if I must act as a muggle, I might as well be a well-dressed one."

Potter groaned. "Shopping?"

Draco ignored him and observed the stores. He caught sight of a posh, flashy-looking shop and smiled. This was his forte. "Potter," he said, gesturing. "Let's go in."

Potter eyed the store warily. "I don't know. Looks expensive."

Draco gave him an incredulous look. "Do you even know who I am? Honestly."

Potter rolled his eyes. "All right. You better not take forever though. It's almost dinnertime."

"Of course I'm going to take forever, Potter. And we can just get dinner at one of the restaurants, it's no big deal," Draco answered absently, as they walked into the store. Potter raised his eyebrows. "You'd be willing to spend time that you don't have to be spending with me?"

Draco shrugged. The afternoon hadn't been all that horrible, as he might've imagined. They'd just meandered around the campus, peering into buildings and watching various school activities, without any serious argument. Well, Draco preferred an afternoon with Potter than one with the Golden Trio in its entirety. One Gryffindor was enough; he didn't feel like dealing with all of them at the same time thank you very much.

Potter smiled a bit. "Okay," he said, glancing around. "Um, what do you do now?"

Draco laughed. "You don't know how to shop? That's a bit pathetic, Potter."

"I haven't ever had the time. You know, between school and defeating Voldemort and all."

Draco scoffed. "No need to be humble," he said sarcastically, while thumbing through a pile of sweaters.

Potter rolled his eyes and watched him. "So what is the appeal of this?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Draco gave him a disdainful once-over. "Not having to look like _that_," he commented. Potter frowned and looked down at himself. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" he asked defensively.

"Everything," Draco snorted. He stopped going through clothes and looked at Potter again. Maybe if he just gave him a few fashion tips, he wouldn't appear so dismal… Draco shook his head. What was he thinking? They weren't friends. Draco wasn't obligated to give Potter anything. He turned back and started going through the stack of denims. The thought continued to nag at him. He _could_ give the other boy a few hints. That wasn't particularly friendly. It would be for the benefit of society, really, so they didn't have to look at Potter's atrocious style. Yes. That was the perfect reason.

"Potter, try these on," he said, shoving a pair of dark denims and a forest green tartan army button up.

Potter looked bewildered, but took them anyway. "Why?"

Draco sighed. "Because school is starting in a couple of days and I'm trying to rid society of the unbearable fashion faux pas you've got going on a daily basis. Please, just try them on."

Potter smiled a bit. "Well, since you asked so nicely," he teased.

Draco rolled his eyes.

**~x~**

Harry glanced at himself in the mirror and ran a hand through his hair, his forehead crinkling delicately as he frowned. The green plaid button up and dark denims Malfoy had picked out complemented and hugged him in ways clothing never had for him before. He sighed as he turned this way and that, trying to decide whether he liked it or not. He had to admit that it was an improvement from his old, baggy hand-me-downs, but it was still strange.

"Malfoy?" he called out cautiously. "Malfoy, you out there?"

"I'm in the next dressing room, Potter," the familiar voice floated over from stall beside him. "What do you want?"

"Erm, can you come in here? I need an opinion." Harry felt uncomfortable asking Malfoy for help, but he didn't want to go around his new school looking like an idiot, either.

"Ugh, fine," Malfoy said, and a few seconds later the curtain was drawn back sharply and Malfoy entered the tiny dressing room. When he caught a glimpse of Harry, he just stood there and stared at him with an unreadable expression.

"Um, Malfoy? Is this… is this okay?" Harry asked nervously, glancing back at himself in the mirror. Malfoy just blinked at him, his mouth open but no words coming out. Harry bit his lip. "I didn't think it was that bad, but I could be wrong—"

Malfoy interrupted him. "Bad? You look _excellent_!" his pale cheeks flushed a deep scarlet as he stuttered. "...Er, I mean, you look acceptable. Quite acceptable."

Harry brightened. "Really? It looks good?"

Malfoy sniffed proudly. "Of course it does. _I _picked it out. Now do you see the appeal?"

"Yeah, I'm starting to, I suppose. I guess I just never liked shopping because I've never done it properly before."

Malfoy scoffed. "Clearly. I've got my items. Are you ready?"

Harry shrugged and looked at himself again. "I don't know..." Malfoy sighed in irritation. "If you don't buy that Potter, _I _will buy it and force you to wear it even if I have to rip off those godforsaken oversized rags you insist on torturing me with every day. Got it?"

Harry smiled sweetly at him. "Aw, Malfoy. That was kind of nice in a bizarrely twisted way."

Malfoy just scowled at him and marched out. Harry sniggered to himself and changed back. When he came out of the dressing room, he saw Malfoy was already at the register, paying for his enormous pile of clothes. He smiled and walked over. "Are you sure you've bought everything you need, Malfoy? That seems like such an awfully limited amount of clothing there," he joked.

Malfoy gave him a look. "Ha ha. Very funny Potter."

Harry grinned. "I know." When it was his turn to pay at the register, he put his hand in his pocket and realized that he hadn't gotten any muggle American money when they had gone to bank earlier, like Malfoy had. He hadn't assumed that he would need it for the rest of the day. Sheepishly, he turned to look at Malfoy. Before he could say anything, the blonde boy sighed.

"Yeah, I know. I'll pay for you, "he said indifferently.

Harry smiled. "Thanks. I'll pay you back of course."

Malfoy shook his head and handed the cashier lady his platinum card. "No need for that."

The lady at the cashier smiled at the two of them. "You're exchange students, aren't you? I can tell by your accents." Both Harry and Malfoy nodded and she looked at Malfoy. "That's very nice of you to pay for his things," she remarked, handing him back the card after swiping it.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "I'm not a typically nice person, ma'am. But thank you."

She laughed and murmured, "sign here," to Malfoy, and then turned to Harry. "You're lucky you've got him around."

Harry nodded in agreement. "I am." He turned to Malfoy. "Let's stop by the bank after this. I'm going to buy you dinner."

Malfoy chuckled a little. "Whoa whoa, slow down. We haven't even had our first date yet," he teased.

Harry laughed good-naturedly. "What if _this_ was our first date?" he countered.

Malfoy just smiled as he signed the receipt and handed Harry his items. "Thank you," he said to the cashier.

She smiled. "You boys are just the cutest couple. Have a nice day, now."

Harry widened his eyes and tried to sputter a negative response, but Malfoy just smiled back at her politely. "Thank you ma'am," he said sweetly. He turned to Harry. "Let's go have our date, babe," he slapped Harry's bum to get him moving, then grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the store.

Once they were outside, Harry stared at him. "Why'd you do that?"

Malfoy shrugged. "Why not? Just having a bit of fun," he replied casually.

Harry rubbed his neck awkwardly. "Oh. Well… Right," he said lamely.

"Bank then dinner, then?" Malfoy asked.

"Yeah," Harry answered. Just as they turned to walk towards the campus bank, Harry spotted Ron and Hermione coming towards them, with Seamus, Dean, and Neville not far behind.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted, running towards him looking thoroughly animated. As she got closer though, her air of enthusiasm lessened and she just seemed enormously confused. "Harry?" she repeated questioningly. The others stared at him with perplexity as well. Ron even looked a bit angry.

"What?" Harry asked nervously, suddenly feeling immensely self-conscious.

"Harry…" Ron began slowly, clearly trying to control his infamous temper. "Why the _hell_ are you holding hands with Malfoy?"

Harry started in surprise and looked down to find that he and Malfoy were still linking hands from the little game in the clothing store. He blushed and whipped his hand away. "Er, we were just fooling around," he said weakly. Ron's face turned crimson at his sentence, and Harry cringed in anticipation for the Weasley explosion that was plainly inevitable by now.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Relax, Weasel. It was a joke."

Ron's face didn't reduce in color. "A joke for _who_, Malfoy?" he asked menacingly.

Malfoy didn't bat an eye. "Some cashier in a store. And why would it even matter if we were actually holding hands anyway, Weasley? Are you homophobic?"

Ron eyes narrowed dangerously. "No, I'm not! Besides, I know Harry's not gay."

Malfoy smirked in challenge. "Do you really know that?"

Hermione interrupted. "All right guys, calm down. It's not a big deal."

"Yeah," Neville piped up. "And even if you were gay, Harry, we'd all support you," he offered. Harry smiled at him. "Thanks Neville," he said.

Ron grumbled. "Fine. Come on, Harry. We're going to go eat at the dining hall."

Harry bit his lip and shifted around uneasily. "Actually Ron, I've got other plans."

Ron looked confused for a moment, then glanced at a smirking Malfoy and groaned. "Really, Harry?"

Harry shrugged sheepishly. "He paid for me, I'm paying for him. It's only fair."

Malfoy grinned tauntingly at Ron. "He's taking me out on a date, Weasel. How do you feel about that?"

Harry groaned as Ron rolled his eyes. "That's extremely heterosexual of you, Harry," he mumbled, before giving him a look and turning away. Hermione and the others gave him apologetic looks and rushed away with him.

Harry sighed. "Thanks for making that a million times more awkward, Malfoy," he complained.

Malfoy just inspected his fingernails. "You're welcome."

Harry gave him a dirty look and started walking towards the bank again. Malfoy followed.

"Is he really that mad over it?" Malfoy asked after a few moments of silence.

Harry shook his head. "No. He just doesn't like you, is all."

"Neither do you," Malfoy pointed out helpfully.

Harry snorted. "Apparently not," he agreed.

**(Another) Author's Note: This chapter is mostly just a bunch of dialogue... But did you catch any references? **


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: This one is a bit longer than usual. Enjoy!**

Chapter 4

_"If you could see that I'm the one who understands you—"_

Draco slammed a hand down on the snooze button on the alarm clock next to his bed and buried his face in his pillow.

Five minutes later. _"Been here all along so why can't you see-ee-ee—" _Slam.

_"You belong with me-e-e, you belong with—"_

"For Merlin's sake!" Draco bellowed. He reluctantly sat up and turned the alarm off manually. Really, he should hex Finnigan in the face for buying the stupid contraption, let alone play stupid muggle music on it. He glanced at the clock. It was almost 7 am, their first day of classes started in about an hour. He looked around the room at his still sleeping roommates and rolled his eyes.

"Get up, you lazy sods," he yelled. Finnigan's head poked up from the top bunk across the room and he gazed at Draco sleepily. "It's charming how _your_ alarm clock woke _me _up instead of you. Come on, get up," Draco urged, and after a few long minutes Finnigan sighed and climbed down, pushing Finch-Fletchley awake as well. They both headed to the hallway bathroom.

Draco leaned back and kicked the bed above him. "Potter! You too!" Potter didn't respond. Draco made an irritated noise and got up, peering over the edge of the top bunk to find Potter curled up with his back facing him. "Potter?" Draco prodded gently at his back. Potter mumbled a bit and rolled over. His eyes were shut and his face was unusually devoid of emotion. Draco tilted his head and leaned closer. He'd never really seen Potter so up close before without an annoyed scowl marring his features. He sort of looked like an angel.

Draco shook his head and poked Potter harder. "Potter," he said loudly, "wake up."

The other boy's hand whipped out and sleep-slapped Draco in the face.

Draco stared back at him, shocked. "Potter!" he yelled. He climbed up onto the bed and started hitting his shoulder. "Get the fuck up!"

Finnigan reentered the room, and looking up to see Draco yelling at his roommate, chuckled. "He's a heavy sleeper, always has been. Not a morning person, either. But I suppose that goes for you as well." Draco scowled and Finnigan grinned wider. "My point proven."

Draco sighed. "Well, how am I supposed to wake him up then? He's like a rock," he complained.

Finnigan shrugged. "I dunno. That was usually Ron's job."

Draco rolled his eyes and leaned over Potter so that they were face to face. "Hey mate," he tried, attempting to sound like Weasley, "Let's go play Quidditch and uh, eat... chicken! ...Mate?"

Finnigan laughed loudly and slapped his own knee. "That was priceless!"

Draco glared at him and turned back to Potter. "Okay, Potter. Enough funny business," he growled. He shoved hard. "Get. Up." He shoved him again and again until the other boy was just inches away from falling off the edge of the bed.

Suddenly, Potter's eyes flew open and he blinked rapidly for a few moments. When he caught sight of Draco sitting there looking incredibly exasperated, his green eyes widened and he tried to back up. "Malfoy? What are you—ah!" Draco's eyebrows rose in surprise as Potter toppled over the edge of the bunk and landed on the floor with a loud thump. They stared at each other in shock for a few moments, before Potter looked away and rubbed his neck.

"Bloody—ow!" Potter moaned. Draco tried to stifle a giggle behind his hand. Potter glared at him. "Why the hell are you in my bed?"

Draco stopped laughing and glared back. "You weren't bloody waking up! I mean I know you're a heavy sleeper, but it's never been this difficult to wake you before! I had to push you off the bed for Merlin's sake!"

"It's early. And you didn't push me, I fell," Potter mumbled grumpily.

Draco shrugged. "I was getting there. Now get up. We've got to get dressed and eat some breakfast before classes start."

Potter looked up in surprise. "Classes are today! I forgot."

Draco rolled his eyes. "It's a good thing we all get the same schedules as roommates, or you'd be fucked. Finnigan and Finch-Fletchley are already up, so chop chop!"

Draco smirked as Potter grumbled some more.

**~x~**

Harry glanced around nervously when they arrived to their first class. He and Seamus had watched some muggle shows about high school that Justin had recommended (and Malfoy had refused to watch), but the classroom looked nothing like it did on the miniature telly in their dorm. There were small tables in rows and curious displays around the room, including one very creepy-looking skeleton. When Harry stared at it, Justin had leaned in and whispered that it wasn't real and that he shouldn't worry. He was relieved by that, but still. It was very odd.

Harry sat down in one of the seats and pulled his crinkled schedule out of his pocket and scanned it for what seemed like the billionth time.

_1. Chemistry_

_2. Calculus_

_3. British Literature_

_4. Civics/Economics (2nd semester)_

_5. Music_

_6. PE_

Harry wrinkled his nose. They had all "senior" classes except for Chemistry and PE, which apparently would be required for them to graduate. Harry remembered Malfoy had complained endlessly about having PE, since it would call for him to get all sweaty and gross. Harry himself was actually quite excited for it, but it was his last class of the day and he would have to wait. Suddenly, there was a shadow looming over his schedule. He glanced up and saw Malfoy standing there. "Going over it again, Potter? Honestly, you shouldn't look so nervous," he said.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You aren't nervous? I thought you'd be terrified, seeing as you hardly know anything about—" he lowered his voice, "—muggles."

Malfoy laughed. "I never said I wasn't. I'm just better at hiding it than you are. And while we're on the subject of things you fall short on and I excel at, I'm also more handsome, charming, and clever."

"You Slytherins always think you're better," Harry muttered.

Malfoy smirked. "I should say the same of Gryffindors," he countered.

Harry was about to retort when another voice interrupted their conversation. "Hi, I'm Annie! What's your name?" He looked up and saw a pretty brunette with bright blue eyes smiling at Malfoy.

Malfoy glanced at her offhandedly, then turned back to face Harry as he spoke to her. "Draco Malfoy."

Her smile faded a little when he didn't look at her again. "That's an interesting name," she tried.

"I've been informed." He still didn't turn.

Harry frowned at him. First of all, Malfoy was being rude, though Harry really didn't know why that would surprise him anyway. He thought maybe the ex-Slytherin would be a bit nicer to girls, but apparently not. Secondly, she was quite a lovely girl. No boy in his right mind would even think of rejecting her. Harry wouldn't have. He took another look at Malfoy's indifferent expression and snorted softly. But who ever said that Draco Malfoy was in his right mind?

The girl had a trace of desperation in her voice now. "Would you like to sit next to me?"

Malfoy finally swiveled his head to look at her and she brightened hopefully. "I've already got a seat," he replied easily, and then he slid in the one next to Harry. "He needs me."

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head. There was no fucking way that he was going to deal with sitting next to Malfoy for an entire year. It was bad enough that they had all the same classes. "Oh no, no. I'll be fine. You should go sit next to—what was your name again? Oh, right, Annie! Go sit next to Annie," he pleaded.

Malfoy smirked a little and tilted his head questioningly. "I think you'll miss me too much," he fake-pondered.

"No, I won't. Go."

"I think you will. I light up your world."

"No I _won't_, and that's very kind of you. Now move."

Annie held up a hand and interrupted them. "No, it's okay. I see that you want to sit next to your... _friend,_" she offered, putting emphasis on the word 'friend'. "But maybe I'll see you around." She trailed a finger lightly down Malfoy's arm. "Bye Draco," she purred.

He didn't react. "Unlikely. Goodbye."

When she left, Harry shoved him. "What's wrong with you? She's gorgeous!"

Malfoy rubbed his arm absently. "Well if you think she's so bloody gorgeous, why didn't you offer to sit next to her?"

"She didn't ask me to!"

"Pity. She wasn't your type anyway."

"How would you know what my type is?"

Malfoy snorted. "You like them snarky and blonde and sexy. Someone who challenges you and infuriates you, but at the same time makes you want to snog them halfway to China. A bit like myself, I might add."

Harry pushed him again. "Not funny."

Malfoy laughed. "It's okay, I know you're secretly in love with me."

"Shut up Malfoy. You wish."

"Potter's famous comeback. You've honestly got to get a new one."

"Malfoy..." Harry warned. Malfoy put his hands up in mock surrender. "All right, all right."

Harry turned when he heard a noise at the front of the classroom. His eyes widened.

"Oh shit," Malfoy murmured. Harry just nodded in agreement.

"My name is Mr. Snape, and I will be your chemistry teacher this year." Snape's sour expression became even more bitter when his coal-colored eyes found Harry. Harry looked the man over. Since this was a muggle school and he couldn't wear his customary black robes, he instead opted for a sports jacket and trousers. It was still an all black ensemble, but it was astonishing, all the same. He elbowed Malfoy in the side when he snickered, probably observing the same thing and finding it amusing. Harry had to admit, it was a bit funny. Still, that murderous look on Snape's face didn't really make him feel like laughing. The rest of the period consisted of Snape scowling and explaining the curriculum while also managing to successfully scare every kid in the classroom.

Harry found that his other classes were fairly the same way, though he did bump into an ex-Hogwarts student once in a while. They'd just nod as they passed each other in the hallway, or smile when they saw the other in the same class. It was strange though, as if they all hadn't attended the same school before, as if they all hadn't gone through the blood and tears they'd experienced together. Harry shook his head and tried to ignore his nostalgic thoughts. He decided to recap his day so far instead.

He had been gleeful after discovering that Ron and his roommates were all in his Brit Lit class and lunch period, though Ron was still being a bit frosty to him whenever Malfoy was around (he was still uncomfortable with the hand-holding joke). He had all muggle teachers so far, except for Snape. Mr. Jenkins for Calculus, Mrs. Lawrence for Brit Lit, Ms. See for Civics. After he had finished a rather awkward lunch (Ron and Malfoy had just made vague spiteful remarks towards each other the entire time while everybody sat in silence and discomfort), he glanced quickly at his schedule again and realized it was time for music. Harry frowned. What were they supposed to do in music class, listen to it? He really didn't know what more they could learn. It seemed like a waste of time to him. But, this was a muggle class, so anything could happen really.

"Ready to go, mate?" Seamus came up from behind him and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

Harry nodded. "Sure. What do you reckon that we'll learn in music?"

Seamus shrugged. "Dunno. Hey Justin," he called over his shoulder. Justin came running up from a few feet behind. "Yeah?"

"What are we supposed to be getting from a music class?"

"Oh, this and that. There are multiple things you could do. Play an instrument, learn to write compositions, sing in the choir. You could learn to read music sheets, too. My grandfather could do that. He was a musician," he explained. Harry nodded. It sounded fairly interesting now. He'd never really been a musical type of bloke, but he was up for learning something new.

"Sounds completely idiotic to me," a familiar voice piped up snidely from behind them.

"Hello to you too, Malfoy," Harry said wearily.

"Hello," the blonde boy answered pompously, appearing at his side.

Harry just sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It was only the first day of classes, and he was already getting sick of Malfoy's constant cynicism. And it wasn't like he could escape the sneering menace after class, no, he _had _to be his roommate. Not to mention that their dorm had split up into unspoken pairs, Justin and Seamus was one and Malfoy and Harry were another, so basically all the time they didn't have to spend together outside of class would still be spent together.

He didn't know why they did this, but Seamus would always look out for Justin, Justin would grab Seamus an extra roll at dinner, Malfoy would randomly pay for some of Harry's things, Harry would pick up Malfoy's dirty laundry off the floor. It just felt more natural, though Harry suspected that Seamus and Justin just didn't particularly want to help Malfoy, or vice versa. Harry wasn't necessarily tired of Malfoy in general, because sometimes the blonde could actually be quite witty and funny, in his own way. But it was those other times, like now, when Malfoy was in a particularly bad mood or he just didn't feel like being even remotely nice, that Harry wished the other boy would just go away.

"Ah, we're here!" Justin exclaimed, ushering them all into the room. Harry smiled at his enthusiasm. He was grateful to have Justin as a roommate not only because he was such a nice bloke, but because he already knew so much about muggles and was quite willing to teach them how to live like one.

Harry peered into the room and whistled quietly. It was quite spacious and had an arena-like set up, with chairs lined across the classroom in several rows of semi-circles and a floor that looked like stairs increasing as the rows went farther back in the room. There were several strange, shiny metal contraptions scattered around, that Harry could only assume were muggle instruments. He'd seen them before in passing, but he hadn't learned much about them other than that they could create quite lovely music when properly used. He glanced at the large black instrument in the corner. He knew that it was a piano, because Dudley had taken a few private lessons back before Harry had attended Hogwarts. Of course, his cousin had hated it and quit after only a few weeks, but Harry was always intrigued by the pretty sounds the piano made when the instructor played it.

"Looks nice, doesn't it?" Malfoy leaned in and whispered in his ear.

Harry glanced back at him in surprise. "I guess somebody's in a better mood," he muttered.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "My mood never improves. I'm always terrible," he declared.

"Really? Because you seemed fairly pleasant when I agreed to go to that horrid restaurant you like so much yesterday!"

"Of course I was, because I was getting my way. It's all a ploy, Potter."

"No it isn't, Malfoy. I bet deep down, you're a lovely, kind person who sings muggle music and kisses bunny rabbits!"

"Ew! That's despicable, Potter."

"Honestly Harry," Seamus piped in. "Are you _really_ trying to defend Malfoy's own benevolence to him? I mean, isn't that a little bit of a lost cause?"

Harry bristled indignantly. "No! He really is quite amiable sometimes!"

Malfoy snorted. "No I'm not. Finnigan's right. I'm a cold bastard," he said cheerfully.

Harry frowned at him. "Why does that not faze you?"

"Because it defines me."

"No it doesn't. Being a cold bastard can't be your only definition," Harry argued.

"You just like to disagree with me, don't you? Well I'm sorry to disappoint, but it's true. I'm nothing more than a stone cold bastard." Harry saw a flash of something in Malfoy's slate-grey eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

"Yeah, we'll see about that." Harry muttered. He saw Malfoy's eyebrows quirk questionably, but the other boy didn't say anything else.

"Hello class!" A jingling, familiar voice boomed through the classroom. Harry whipped his head around to the front and his eyes widened. Dumbledore! His former headmaster smiled benignly at his students. "Welcome to music! My name is Mr. Dumbledore, and I will be your instructor this year. Please be seated."

Justin nudged him excitedly. "This is going to be brilliant!" he whispered enthusiastically. Harry nodded in agreement. He'd always wondered how the man would fare as a professor, guessing that he would probably be just as vague and mysterious as his personality was. But that was Dumbledore, and Harry was just glad to see his old mentor's familiar face in such an unfamiliar setting.

Once everyone was seated, Dumbledore clapped his hands. "All right, let's get started!"

**~x~**

Draco rolled his eyes as soon as he saw Dumbledore. Typical. He watched as the old coot winked at Potter and rolled his eyes. Dumbledore had probably made sure that he taught Potter's class, just so that they could keep that secret special bond they apparently have always had. It sickened Draco, really. No teenage boy should have that kind of relationship with his wizard-headmaster-turned-muggle-music-instructor. It was just weird. Draco glanced over at Potter, who was smiling happily back. Potter didn't appear especially burdened, but what would he know? Draco was obviously smarter than him.

"This class has several different components to it," Dumbledore began. "These include singing, songwriting, instruments, history of musical notes, sheet music—whatever you'd like. You may choose two of these, one for each semester, and I will grade you according to whichever task you've decided upon. There are sign-up sheets here. Choose wisely!" Draco wondered how Dumbledore had managed to learn enough about music to be able to teach a muggle class on it. Or perhaps he already had the knowledge? With Dumbledore, it was never certain.

"Come on, let's go sign up," Potter said, urging Draco out of his seat towards the sign-ups. Draco wrinkled his nose at the crowd of students surrounding them.

"Erm, no thanks. I'll remain here until the people disperse," he replied with distaste.

Potter shrugged. "All right. We'll wait. What are you going to sign up for?"

Draco took a minute to think. What _was_ he going to do? He hadn't really thought about it until now. It all seemed awfully ridiculous to him and he didn't particularly want to do any of it. But he supposed he would have to, if he wanted to graduate. And Draco would not tolerate failure, even at a muggle school. Actually, _especially_ at a muggle school. Draco would rather shave off all of his beautiful white-blonde hair than fail a muggle course. That would be the ultimate humiliation.

Potter was still looking at him, so he pretended to have been inspecting his clean-cut fingernails. "I don't know. What are you doing?"

Potter looked pensive for a moment. "I think for the first semester I might try out choir, because it seems simple enough. Next semester I'd like to try out an instrument. That could be fun."

Draco shrugged. "I suppose I'll do whatever you're doing then."

"What? Why? Don't you want to pick out your own choices?"

Draco shrugged again. "It's not like I have any preference anyway. Besides, we should stick together."

"We stick together way too much, Malfoy," Potter said tiredly.

Draco bristled defensively. "What, you don't want to?"

"Well, it wasn't like we were friends before this."

"We don't have to be friends to help each other out."

"Is that the Slytherin way of thinking? Because in my book, anyone I help out or vice versa is my friend."

Draco paused. What was that? "So what are you saying?"

Potter huffed. "I'm saying that if you want to stick around me, I'd prefer it if you were a bit nicer!"

"You want to be friends with me?"

"Do you want to be friends with _me_?"

They eyed each other warily for a few moments. Then Potter turned his head and motioned over towards the now open table for sign up sheets. "Let's just go sign up."

"Fine."

They didn't speak as they signed up, and even after class let out and they went to PE taught by an old, cranky man named Mr. Barnes, they still barely spoke a word to each other. Draco found it rather awkward, even. But he couldn't help it. The whole concept of them being friends completely boggled his mind. Were they friends? Draco hadn't thought so before, at least, not consciously. Though he supposed that he had acted quite like one at some points. They'd only really stopped fighting last week when they had first arrived, and even then they constantly bickered everyday about the tiniest things.

Draco frowned. Was that what amity was? He tried to imagine a friendship with Potter by thinking about the way the boy acted with the Weasel and Granger. They were always laughing, always so close and supportive. It was weird. Draco wasn't that way with Blaise or Pansy. They had a good time together but in the back of their minds, they all knew that they would probably turn on one another if the situation called for it. Maybe it was just a Slytherin thing, but it was the way Draco had always known it. A friendship with Potter obviously wouldn't work like that. He was far too loyal to do anything of the sort. It was a proven fact that the boy would go to extreme measures to protect the ones he loved, even die for them. Draco didn't even know if he would've tried at all.

As they turned off the lights that night to go to bed, he gently prodded Potter's bed with his foot. "Hey, Potter?"

"Mmph, yeah?" He sounded sleepy.

"Do you really think that there's more to me than just being a horrible git?"

"Yeah. I do."

"All right. Goodnight."

"Mmm… G'night."

Draco lay back and closed his eyes. Maybe they weren't necessarily friends, but at least Potter had some faith in him. He was probably the only person who did.

**(Another) Author's Note: I was just having some fun with the alarm clock part in the beginning. That song was 'You Belong With Me' by Taylor Swift, if you didn't know. Also, it's a bit vague in the story but they are seniors on a high school level, and that's why they're taking mostly senior classes. I apologize for any mistake given about those as well, because I honestly don't know much about them. Thanks for reading this chapter! I'll try my best to get out another soon! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: I just feel like updating this one rather than TWWAW. **

Chapter 5

Draco was lounging around on the couch in their dorm watching Potter, Finnigan, Scott from next door and a couple of other guys doing some homework on the opposite couches. It had only been a couple of weeks since school started, but somehow Potter and the boys had already managed to fall behind on their lessons.

"Hey Malfoy, do you know what—"

"The square root of 5."

"Thanks. What about—"

"14."

"Cool… For Chemistry did you—"

"2 mols."

"Did you convert grams into mols or atoms into—"

"Grams."

"Thanks, Malfoy."

Draco shook his head. It had been like this for the past hour. Every couple of minutes, Potter would look up and ask him how to do something, or force him to discuss some mundane subject he couldn't care less about. Now he truly understood why Gryffindor always got points taken away for late and half-arsed work. Potter's study habits were absolutely erratic. Draco of course had already finished everything, plus some extra credit work for Calculus. _He_ was always on top of things because he was a Malfoy, and Malfoys were _always_ one step ahead.

Suddenly, the door to their dorm swung open and a distressed Granger ran into the room. "Harry! I need you!"

Potter shut his textbook and got up. "What's wrong, Hermione?"

She came closer and motioned him over with one hand. "Come here, it's private."

Potter shrugged. "Alright." He walked over to her, which was only a few feet from where Draco was sitting. "What's wrong, Mione?" he asked again.

Draco casually leaned back when she lowered her voice into a whisper. "Ron's is acting like an arse."

Draco almost snorted. That was it? Honestly, if she was going to come crying every time the Weasel was being an arse, she might as well just attach herself to Potter's hip. Potter cracked a little smile himelf. "Erm, but why is that such a big deal?"

Granger looked exasperated. "I mean, we were talking and I just happened to mention something and he got all upset and stomped out on me!"

Potter frowned. "What did you say to him?"

Granger glanced away sheepishly. "Well… Promise not to tell anyone, Harry?"

"Sure."

Draco smirked. Well, _he _never promised not to tell anyone. Then again, she didn't know he was listening. He strained his ears.

"I've got a bit of a crush on Theodore Nott…"

"WHAT?" Potter and Granger both whipped around to look at Draco in surprise when he yelled at the same time as Potter.

"Were you eavesdropping?" Granger asked angrily.

"No…"

"Malfoy…" Potter warned.

"Fine, I was," Draco confessed, examining his fingernails nonchalantly. "But I mean, really Granger? Nott is so not your type."

"Yeah," Potter agreed, turning back to Granger. "He's not. Where did this come from?"

Granger blushed and shrugged. "He's in my Calculus class. I've never noticed before, but he's quite bright, and I just…"

"And you fancy him because he's bright?"

"Well, yes…"

Draco rolled his eyes and stood up. "Listen, Granger. I know you may think it's charming and all to fancy someone as intelligent as you, someone who can handle your study habits and witty banter, but it's not. Take it from me, you never date someone who knows more than you. They become boring and annoying, and they will drive you bonkers with competition. Everything you do will be a competition with them, and it ruins the relationship every time without fail. This of course, does not apply to you, Potter," he motioned at the other boy, who bristled defensively, "Nor does it apply to Weasley, because they obviously will have struggles to find someone less clever than them."

Granger stared at him. "What are you trying to say?"

He sighed. "I'm trying to say that Nott is no good for you. You should go focus on the Weasel because obviously he's gotten himself all hot and bothered over it and frankly, you've both been dancing around each other for more than 7 years now. Get a clue, Granger."

Potter started clapping. "Finally, someone has the balls to say that out loud," he declared. "Hermione, Ron was probably jealous that you fancy Nott because he fancies you himself."

Granger's face was tinged pink. "But I—I mean Ron is just a friend!" she sputtered. Potter snorted.

Draco raised his eyebrows. "You are _completely_ mental," he said, shaking his head.

Granger glared at him. "Well, how do I know that Theodore is smarter than me? We get along all right in class, when we're assigned to work together!"

Draco grinned impishly. "You don't. But I have to say Granger; Nott isn't worth your time. He's a terrible shag."

"And how would you know that?"

Draco shrugged, examining his nails offhandedly again.

"Have you slept with him, Malfoy?" Potter inquired, sounding incredulous. Draco shrugged again. "Unbelievable," he muttered. Draco smirked down at his own fingers. "Hermione, I hate to admit it, but Malfoy's right. Nott's not the guy for you. But Ron, on the other hand… Well, he's crazy about you as you are for him, but you both just haven't realized it yet. I mean, think about it. Who is it that has been with you all along, protecting you, fighting for and with you?"

Granger gave him a look. "You."

Potter sighed. "Well, yes, but that's not the same thing. Have you noticed the way he tries to get your attention all the time? I mean, he only does things like chewing with his mouth open and sleeping in class because he knows it'll infuriate you and get you to notice him."

Granger raised her brows. "No he doesn't, that's just the way he is."

Potter smiled a little. "That may be. But it's like this, Hermione. When you fancy someone and they don't know you exist, you've got to do whatever it is you can to get them to see you, even if it makes them hate you."

"Reverse psychology, if you will," Draco butted in.

Potter rolled his eyes. "Yeah, what he said. He annoys you because he liiiikes you," he teased.

Granger pushed his arm gently. "I guess you're right… I mean, I never realized it before but even though he aggravates me to no end, I can't imagine life without him. It'd be awful."

Potter smiled. "That's how you know," he said softly.

"Thanks, Harry."

"No problem."

When she walked out, Potter hit Draco on the back of the head playfully. "Don't you have anything better to do than eavesdrop on my conversations, Malfoy?"

Draco scoffed. "Not until 4. Anyways, about what you were saying before. Do you really believe in that shit reverse psychology?"

Potter shrugged. "Sure. You probably know what I mean."

"I don't."

"Yeah, you do. You hide my glasses in the mornings because you like to rile me up. You want me to notice you!"

"What? No, I do it because it's hilarious watching you crawl all over the place blindly searching for them! I do not fancy you!"

"Well, you did say you were gay…"

"I didn't say that!"

"You slept with Nott!"

"I didn't say that either!"

"You implied it."

"Well even if I did, it doesn't mean I fancy _you_!"

Potter grinned. "That's true, but how else would you explain why you push me out of bed in the mornings and steal my towel while I shower?"

"Because I _hate _you!"

"Right."

"I don't fancy you!"

"Okay."

"I don't!"

"Whatever you say, Malfoy."

Draco rolled his eyes and turned away. Potter smiled and winked at him before returning to the group to study. Draco scowled back. How dare that prat imply that Draco fancied him, a male! That was absolutely ridiculous. Draco bit his lip. Well, it wasn't_ that _ridiculous. He'd fancied a couple of blokes before, including Nott, which was how Draco knew that the Slytherin wasn't right for Granger. And he did have to admit that he liked to watch how Potter's face got all red and scrunched when he was angry. When he was younger, he did small, horrible things to provoke Potter and get him all worked up. As he got older, he liked to push it far enough so that Potter would lunge at him, or whip out his wand, because it made Draco feel superior.

But now that they were roommates and sort-of-kind-of friends, Draco found that it was becoming more difficult to rile Potter up nowadays because the other boy just found his antics amusing. Draco knew that his pranks were getting dumber, but he couldn't help but do them anyway. It was the fuel that kept him going, so he would continue to provoke Potter. Draco shook his head and scowled again, at nobody in particular. But none of that meant the git had the right to accuse him of fancying him! The nerve!

"You've been quiet over there for a while. You all right, Draco?" Scott asked, looking up at him from his paper.

Draco rolled his eyes. Everybody else on their floor called him Malfoy, even the other new people that they had met. But the friendly blonde insisted on calling him by first name. Draco didn't know whether he did it to infuriate him, or because he really was that sickeningly nice. He assumed it was the first one, just because he didn't believe anyone could be that genuine. "I'm fine," he replied. "Carry on with your studying. Unless," he looked at Potter pointedly, "someone would like to accuse me of fancying stupid gits or needs assistance with their chemistry or anything."

Potter grinned cheekily at him. "Actually, I'd like to—"

"Shut up Potter."

Scott laughed. "That reminds me, do you want to hear something funny?"

No, Draco didn't want to.

Scott continued anyway. "The first few days of school a couple of the guys were convinced that Draco and Harry were an item. They even had a poll going."

Draco made a face of disgust as Potter laughed. "That's preposterous!"

Scott smiled. "I know. One time at breakfast, someone made a list of reasons why you guys look like a couple and we've all read it. I think it's in our dorm. Hold on, I'll go get it!" He got up and dashed out, and a few moments later he was back with a crumpled up wad of parchment. "Here!"

Finnigan grinned widely and snatched it from his hands. He smoothed it out and scanned it briefly before chuckling and clearing his throat dramatically.

_1) They're bickering like an old married couple, as usual._

_ 2) Harry just stole Malfoy's orange. _

_3) There's so much flirtatious banter going on right now it hurts._

_ 4) And did I just see Malfoy grab Harry's arm? I think so. _

_5) Judging by the way they look at the moment, they definitely fucked last night. _

_6) Actually who am I kidding? They definitely fuck every night. _

_7) Why don't they just fuck right here on this table for everyone to see? It would be less obvious. _

_8) And when they're not fucking, they're eye-fucking. Like right now. Yes, I see you. _

_9) It's like porn. _

_10) DTF all day everyday bro._

Finnigan stopped there because he was choking on his own laughter. Draco grabbed the list from his hands and crumpled it up again furiously, throwing it across the room. Finch-Fletchley was on the ground, overcome with amusement. "Whoever wrote that is a fucking legend, that's hilarious!" he exclaimed.

"How is that funny?" Draco demanded. "We do _not_ fuck! And what the hell does DTF mean?" That just made everyone laugh harder. He scowled and crossed his arms moodily.

"Lighten up Malfoy, it's just fun," Potter said, getting up to sit next to him and jostling his arm. "Besides, you know you fancy me."

"Merlin's balls, shut up you tosser!"

Scott tilted his head slightly. "Merlin?"

Potter shook his head. "It's a Malfoy thing," he replied, as though that would explain everything.

"Right," Scott laughed.

Draco sneered at them all and leaned back in his seat grumpily, careful not to brush Potter's arm and give any of them reason to tease him further.

**~x~**

Harry was sitting on a bench watching the soccer team practice when Ron walked up and sat next to him. "Hey, mate," his friend greeted. "How's it going?"

Harry shrugged. "It's good. What about you? Got everything sorted out with Hermione?"

Ron smiled and blushed. "You could say that."

Harry looked over and raised his eyebrows, nudging him a bit. "I'm glad you guys finally realized it."

"Yeah… I guess it just took a bit of a push from you, eh?"

"Actually, Malfoy helped more than I did."

Ron frowned. "How the hell did Malfoy help?"

"Well, when Hermione came to me all upset over a fight with you, she confessed that she fancied Nott. Malfoy overheard and started going off about how Nott was wrong for her because he was an awful shag or some tripe like that. I doubt Mione would have listened if it were just me trying to explain things."

"Well, I guess that's good then," Ron said grudgingly.

Harry smiled and thought about how Malfoy had ranted about how smart people should only date smart people. He decided not to tell Ron the tidbit of information where Malfoy had insulted Ron and his intelligence level. Ron didn't need any more reason to despise Malfoy. "He's not a bad bloke, Ron. Yeah he constantly tries to get under your skin, but it's actually gotten quite amusing over time."

Ron looked at him like he was crazy. "You're losing it, mate."

Harry shrugged. "I probably am." He turned back to focus on the game. "Anyway, who do you think will win the scrimmage? I reckon it'll be the red shirts, because their defense is seriously lacking on the right and their goalie is miserable."

Ron chuckled. "I dunno. Why don't you try out for the team, Harry? You seem to be quite interested in it."

Harry bit his lip. He actually hadn't thought about joining the soccer team before. He'd enjoyed sitting here and watching practices every now and then, and he attended games whenever he could, but he never actually considered trying out. Here at Redmond soccer was a year-round sport, so Harry figured that he had plenty of time to see if he was any good at it. Plus, he'd picked up most of the rules from watching it so much. Maybe he would join the team.

"I'll think about it," he said, finally.

Ron got up. "Good. Well, I've got to meet Mione down at Café Isla's in 15 minutes. Want to come?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm sure she means for it to be a date, so I don't think I'm invited."

"But you can come if you want, she won't mind."

"No, you go ahead. Have fun."

"All right. See you later."

"Bye."

Harry waved after his friend and then turned back to watch the game. When he moved, his wand slipped out of his pocket and fell onto the grass. He hurriedly glanced around to make sure nobody had seen him and then leaned down and grabbed it, tucking it back into his sleeve. When he straightened back up, he was startled to find Malfoy sitting on the bench next to him with a smirk on his face.

"Well, well, Potter. I don't think you have the right to tease me about keeping my wand hidden anymore."

Harry gave him a look. "Stop it with the innuendo, Malfoy."

Malfoy looked legitimately surprised. "I honestly meant my actual wand. But whatever floats your boat. Anyways, I thought he would never leave."

"Ron?"

"Duh. Who the hell else was here just a few minutes ago? Or do you have a new 'friend'? That's so sweet." Malfoy pretended to smile at an invisible person sitting in between them and held out a hand in greeting. "I'm Draco Malfoy, how do you do?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Shut up. I didn't see you around when he was here. Were you watching us?"

Malfoy scoffed. "No. I was just coming back from my shopping," he held up his bags for proof, "and I happened to notice you sitting with him here. Besides, I see you here all the time."

Harry waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Do you often watch me, Malfoy?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "In your dreams, Potter."

"So you watch me while I'm sleeping as well?"

"Gods, you're such a git."

Harry grinned and leaned back to observe the soccer game again. "I know."

Malfoy gave him an irritated look before glancing over at the game as well. "Why don't you play soccer? You're always here."

"Ron said the same thing. I'm thinking about trying out."

"Oh? Well, you'll probably be the superstar of the team. Like you are for practically everything that you do."

Harry raised his eyebrows. Was that an actual compliment from Malfoy? Usually when they spoke the blonde would always be aloof or annoyed, while Harry joked and teased him mercilessly. Malfoy hadn't really seemed to have gotten over his old habits of hating Harry, because he was always pulling pranks on him or insulting him to the nth degree like he used to back at Hogwarts. Harry figured that the boy just wanted a small piece of familiarity with him, so he usually put up with it. Harry smiled a little. Maybe Malfoy was starting to warm up to him.

"You really think I'm a superstar?"

Malfoy gave him a slight half smirk as if to say 'don't push it, Potter.'

Harry just chuckled and faced the field again. They watched the scrimmage together for the rest of the afternoon, sometimes making a few comments or criticisms. When they headed off to the dining hall for dinner, Harry looked over and grinned at Malfoy, who gave him a tiny smile back. Maybe it wasn't so bad hanging out with the ex-Slytherin prat after all.

**Author's Note: I actually don't know much about soccer, so forgive me if I make a few mistakes in the rules. I'm just going to look it up. (Or if anyone wants to message me some tips for future reference, that'd be wonderful as well!) I'll try to get the next chapter out as soon as possible. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Sorry for the lack of updating recently, I've been very busy with school and such. I remember a time when I used to update every other day… hah. Long gone. Hope you stick around all the same!**

Chapter 6

As the weeks went by, Harry found it increasingly more difficult to keep up with his schoolwork. He'd done as Ron and Malfoy had suggested and tried out for soccer, and surprisingly made it as the team's centre forward. It came as a complete surprise to Harry, as he'd never played the sport before and his position was one of utmost importance, that he obtained his place. But soccer was rapidly taking up most of his free time, which meant homework was out of the question most nights.

Harry didn't mind all that much, especially since he appeared to be doing so well. The coach said he had natural aggression, speed, agility, and talent. Malfoy had rolled his eyes and muttered, 'of course,' but Harry hadn't missed the slight lilt of pride in Malfoy's voice. He assumed the boy was impressed, if not a bit jealous, that Harry was the star player on yet another team. Malfoy, along with Ron, had been one of the few to come watch his tryouts. Seamus and Justin had come as well, but they mostly hovered around the snack table by the side of the field, leaving the other two alone the majority of tryouts. Harry didn't even want to imagine the sort of conversation they had during that time.

He sighed and banged his head on the table, trying to drown out the sound of Snape's monotone voice explaining the properties of matter. Like he even needed to know _that_. He closed his eyes and mentally went through some of the plays he and his team had practiced the previous evening. Suddenly, he felt a sharp jab on his left. "Psst. Wake up, Potter! If Snape sees you sleeping _again_, he'll send you to detention _again_," Malfoy whispered, putting a deliberate emphasis on the word 'again'.

Harry sighed and lifted his head slowly. He really didn't want another detention tacked onto his already monumental list of wrongdoings. Honestly, how was he supposed to know it wasn't okay to wander out of the classroom, eat during class, or speak when the teacher was speaking? He'd supposed that muggle school would be much simpler than Hogwarts, but apparently that was not the case. And here in Snape's class, where the man gleefully sentenced him to detention whenever he so much as raised a finger, Harry stood no chance.

And sure enough, Snape gave him that detention for being unable to answer a question after he'd been staring at the window a few minutes later. Malfoy smiling, leaned over to tell him, "Once a rule breaker, always a rule breaker."

Harry scowled. "He just can't get over his hatred for me."

"That might be true," Malfoy said. "But still, you weren't paying attention."

"And neither were you."

"But he doesn't hate _me_. Besides, I get stellar grades and you get—"

"I know, complete shit."

Malfoy just grinned again and leaned back. Harry sighed and glanced at the clock. How could it still only be first period? Malfoy kicked him and Harry's gaze snapped forward to Snape, who had been eyeing him warily. Harry shot him a winning smile and schooled his expression into one of extreme interest. Snape scowled at him and turned away to focus on somebody else. Harry sighed in relief and nudged Malfoy's leg in silent thanks. The other boy nudged back in response.

Over time, Malfoy had become less of an irritation and more of a companion than Harry had ever deemed possible. They ate meals together, went to classes together, watched each other's backs, cleaned up each other's messes (well in most cases, it was Malfoy cleaning up after Harry). Malfoy sometimes tried to help Harry practice, though he was terrible at soccer, and Harry accompanied Malfoy on his various shopping trips, though he was always bored out of his mind. When Malfoy made to join him on the couch or at the dining table, he didn't feel dread anymore, but happiness upon seeing him.

They had a silent, mutual agreement not to label it, but Harry knew what they were. Friends. He smiled at the implication. _Friends_, he thought, testing the word out in his mind. _Malfoy and I are friends._ He stole a glance at the blonde boy sitting next to him, only to find that he was looking back with a confused expression on his face. Probably because Harry had been smiling like an idiot for the past couple of minutes.

"What?" Malfoy mouthed.

"Nothing," Harry mouthed back, still grinning.

Malfoy looked at him suspiciously, but didn't comment back. When the bell rang for the next class, Malfoy addressed him again. "Why were you smiling like that?"

Harry shrugged. "I felt happy. Is it a crime to have happy thoughts?"

"It is in Snape's class," Malfoy said.

Harry rolled his eyes and laughed. "True."

Malfoy smiled. "Anyway, you've got time to kill before practice after classes. Want to kick the ball around a bit?"

"Don't you have anything to do?"

"No, I'm already so far ahead on homework that I don't need to do it for the next week, if I so choose. Besides, don't you have a game coming up? You've got to be prepared."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, I do. But that's all right, you don't have to do that. You should have a go at some new things. You haven't done anything remotely interesting since we got here. Don't you want to try a sport, or join a club, or something?"

Malfoy shrugged, looking away. "Not really."

Harry watched as Malfoy fiddled with his thumbs a bit, his grey eyes darting this way and that. Those nervous habits that Harry never had the privilege of witnessing before, the ones that he'd only recently been exposed to. Malfoy hadn't really shown his vulnerable side to him, if he had one, but he did let his guard down once in a while. He didn't really do that in front of anybody else, so Harry liked to believe he was pretty important. "What's wrong? Don't you want to?" he asked.

Malfoy shrugged again. "I don't really know what I'd be good at," he answered honestly. "I don't think I would be at much."

Harry observed him quietly again before saying anything. Malfoy obviously feared failure. Especially at muggle things. He tried to lighten the mood. "You'd be excellent at everything! You're a Malfoy."

The other boy cracked a smile. "I suppose," he agreed.

"Why don't you try out for the play? Seamus and Dean are doing it, and they say it's loads of fun. Plus, you've always been one for the dramatics," Harry teased.

Malfoy pushed at him. "Shut up. Maybe," he replied absently.

Harry sighed. That was all the response he could hope for from the stubborn ex-Slytherin. "All right." The two boys headed off to their second period class without another word of discussion.

**~x~**

That evening, Draco was just coming back from his shower when he heard shouts coming from the dorm. "I hate you! I hate living with you, I hate sleeping with you, I hate eating with you!"

"Well if you hate me so much, why don't you leave?"

He ran towards the slightly open door, peering into the small crack. Finnigan and Potter were glaring at one another, each poised defensively as if waiting for the physical fight. "You know why I can't leave! You lead me on and then you stab me in the back, how could you?" Potter screamed, waving his arms around in the air. Draco felt his breath catch at the fury laced in his voice, the agony etched in his face. It was all too familiar, though usually it was directed at Draco. It was a bit odd seeing Potter look like that because of somebody else.

"You were never good enough," Finnigan shouted back, "I never needed you! I never wanted you!" Draco saw Finch-Fletchley and some random girl Finnigan hung around with watching them yell at each other. Why were they just standing there, when their friends were fighting like that? What caused this? Potter and Finnigan seemed fine in the afternoon.

A flash of hurt crossed Potter's face before it hardened again. "I'm better than you'll ever be! I'm the best you'll never have," he whispered, voice cracking. Draco's heart broke at the sound of it. He was about to step in and take Potter away, but the girl got there first.

"Stay away from him," she warned Finnigan, then wrapped her arms around Potter. "Baby, you don't need him," she said consolingly, brushing back unruly hair from his forehead. "I'm here for you."

Draco felt a tinge of something in his chest, a warning bell going off in his head. Why was that random girl comforting Potter? That was Draco's job! He gritted his teeth in annoyance as he watched Potter lean into her touch. Potter was his roommate, his bunkmate, his classmate, his frie— He shook his head of the thought. Anyway, Potter was his. And that was all there was to it. So what the hell was that girl doing? And what was going on between Finnigan and Potter? And why hadn't he heard of this before?

Finnigan apparently had the same thought, because he wrenched the girl away from Potter. "No, _you_ stay away from him," he growled at the girl, pushing her farther from Potter. "He's mine."

Potter struggled to get away from Finnigan. "What are you doing? You didn't want me—let go of me!"

Finnigan grinned and held him closer. "That was before she came along. You're mine, and don't you forget it."

Potter tried to wriggle away, but Finnigan had an iron grip. "Say you're mine," Finnigan urged.

"No!"

"Say it!"

"No!"

"Say it _now_!" Finnigan tightened his grip painfully, and Draco saw Potter wince.

"I'm yours," he whispered weakly. Finnigan grinned maliciously and to Draco's surprise, leaned in and pressed his mouth to Potter's with aggressive force. That was the last straw. Draco saw red.

He burst into the room and lunged at Finnigan, tearing him away from Potter and throwing him to the ground. Draco pinned his arms down and leaned in close. "Never touch him again, you fucking bastard," he snarled, pulling his wand out threateningly.

Finnigan's eyes widened. "Hey, what's going on?" he sputtered.

"Malfoy!" Potter ran up and pulled Draco up by the arm. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Saving your arse, you stupid git!" Draco yelled.

Potter frowned and tightened his grip on Draco's arm. "What's wrong with you?"

Draco widened his eyes in disbelief. "What's wrong with _me_? He—" he jabbed his wand into Finnigan's chest, who had just stood up next to him, "was screaming at you that you were worthless, physically and mentally abusing you, and there's something wrong with _me_?" He yanked his arm away. "You truly are a stupid git!" Potter and Finnigan exchanged glances, then starting laughing. Finch-Fletchley and the other girl started laughing as well. Draco gritted his teeth. "What the hell are you morons laughing about?" he demanded.

"Oh, oh Malfoy," Potter grinned, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Draco slapped it away immediately. "What?"

"We were doing a scene," Finnigan explained. When Draco stared at him blankly, he tried again. "I'm trying out for the play, and Harry was helping me for my audition."

Draco felt his face begin to flush. _Are you fucking kidding me. _"I knew that," he argued weakly. "I was just testing you."

Potter raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Were you, now?"

"I was. You failed, obviously."

"Right. Okay, Malfoy," Potter was using that tone he often used, when he thought Draco was being childish.

"Whatever." Draco walked away and rolled onto his bunk, his back facing everyone else. Well, did he feel stupid. Where had that fire had come from, that passion he'd felt in his chest when he watched Finnigan kiss Potter? What was that? He'd felt… protective, almost territorial over Potter. It was just—the pain in Potter's voice, his pretty face all scrunched up in misery. Draco couldn't take it. He absently wondered when he'd started wanting to help Potter, instead of hurting him.

He heard the footsteps of several people leaving the room, probably going to get ready for bed. He sighed and pulled his blankets over his body, before he felt the side of his bed dip down as somebody sat down. "Hey Malfoy."

Draco sighed and turned around, giving Potter an irritated sneer. "What do you want?"

Potter shifted uncomfortably. "Why did you attack Seamus like that?"

"I told you, I was testing you."

"No, really. Why?" Potter's green eyes bore into his with such great intensity he had to look away.

"Fine, you caught me. I didn't know. But I'm not that heartless as to just sit back and watch as somebody gets abused," Draco muttered.

"Then why did you lie and say you did?"

"I didn't want my spotless bad boy reputation to be shattered, all right?"

Potter smiled a little. "Why don't you just admit that you like me?"

Draco widened his eyes. "W-what? I don't like you," he stuttered.

"Yes you do. Come on, Malfoy, admit it. You like me!"

"I do not!" Draco suddenly felt a whole lot more uncomfortable with Potter sitting on his bed. He scooted away as discreetly as possible.

"It's okay, Malfoy. I like you too," Potter said.

Draco looked up at him. "You do?"

"Yeah. I mean, aside from the snide remarks, erratic mood swings, and excessive use of hair gel, what's not to like?" Potter teased.

Draco smiled and pushed at him a little in response. Potter liked him? He'd never thought about it before. He glanced up at Potter's grinning face, shining with mirth and delight. Well, maybe he _had_ thought of it before. But it never dawned on him that Potter could feel the same way. "You've got that right."

"You're a piece of work, you know that?" Potter remarked, nudging Draco to move over a bit to make more room for him. Draco complied and Potter leaned back, dropping his mop of raven black hair onto Draco's pillow. He turned to look at him. "But I guess I am too. Makes us quite the pair, doesn't it?"

Draco was temporarily sidetracked by the closeness of their faces before he responded. "Yeah, it does."

Potter laughed. "So… do you think it's safe to say we're friends now?"

Oh, so he meant he liked Draco… as a friend. He felt a twinge of disappointment in his chest, though he couldn't imagine why. It wasn't as if he'd ever suggested more, or that he would even want more. Draco searched the other boy's face for a bit, the earnest expression in his stunning eyes and slight curve of his smiling lips. "I think so, yes."

Potter laughed again. "Good. Now that we're officially friends, we can do official friend stuff."

Draco raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Such as?"

"Oh you know. Pass notes in class, have sleepovers, share secrets. I don't know, I only have what I've seen on muggle TV shows."

Draco snorted. "We already talk in class, we're roommates, and our biggest secret—you know, the one that we're both wizards—has already kind of been established."

"Fine, you prat. Go ahead and rain on my parade," Potter pouted.

Draco laughed. "All right. We can do those ridiculous things if it makes you so happy."

Potter stopped pouting and grinned. "Yeah! Late night conversations, confessions, chocolate, the whole shebang."

"Where on earth are you coming up with this stuff?"

Before Potter could respond, Draco heard some shuffling indicating that people were coming back into their dorm. He looked past Potter and saw that Finnigan, Finch-Fletchley, Dean Thomas, and a couple of guys from Scott's dorm coming back in. Draco tried to move so that he was a bit further from Potter, but Finch-Fletchley caught sight of them first. "Oi! What's going on, guys?"

Draco reddened a little as the other boys snickered. He glanced at Potter and realized how their situation must seem. Their closeness, facing each other on Draco's bed, was pretty questionable. Potter wasn't fazed, though. "Just having a chat," he replied easily.

Scott appeared in the doorway. "Yeah, a _chat_," he said, making air-quotes with his fingers. "Do we need to add that to the list of clearly heterosexual things that you guys do?"

Potter laughed. "Go ahead."

Dean Thomas sighed. "If only we'd waited just a bit longer. Who knows what they'd be doing if we had."

Draco grimaced at the suggestion. "Shut up." He pushed at Potter gently. "Go to your own bed, Potter."

Potter winked at him and got up, smiling. "All right." He leaned in and playfully pecked him on the cheek. Taken aback, Draco just stared at him, butterflies fluttering rapidly in his stomach. "Goodnight." Draco nodded silently at him while everyone else snickered some more. When the other boys left and the lights turned off, Draco touched his cheek where Potter kissed him lightly and felt a rush of something he'd never felt before in his chest. He smiled to himself and was still smiling as he drifted off to sleep.

**~x~**

Harry stared at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. It was a cold night, and he was freezing. To make matters worse, whenever his eyes started to droop, he'd think of something stressful—like his upcoming game or the homework he didn't do last night—and he'd be wide awake again. Harry sighed and thought of Malfoy. He'd finally got the guts to establish their friendly relationship, and he was glad he'd done it. He'd been a bit afraid, at first, when Malfoy hadn't responded immediately, but the other boy seemed pleasant enough to him afterwards. Plus, he couldn't get that bright smile Malfoy had on when Harry told him he liked him out of his head.

He tossed and turned a bit longer before climbing down from his bunk. This was getting ridiculous. He reached over and shook Malfoy's shoulder. "Psst. Malfoy!"

Malfoy murmured something but didn't stir. "Malfoy!" Harry tried again. "Wake up!"

The blonde boy blinked a few times to register that he was there. "Potter? What are you doing? It's—" he checked the alarm clock on the bedside table, "Three in the morning!"

"I couldn't sleep," Harry admitted.

"And you thought it'd be better if we both didn't sleep?"

Harry scratched his head. All right, he didn't really think this one through. He felt selfish to make Malfoy stay up and talk to him, but he still wanted him to. He was getting lonely all by himself. "I just thought we could start our official friend stuff now."

Malfoy snorted softly. "All right." He sat up and patted a spot on the bed beside him. Harry climbed on and sat down. He paused for a moment, then took his wand out of his sleeve and pointed it at his trunk in the closet. "Accio flashlight," he whispered, and the small object whizzed over and landed in his lap. He grinned at Malfoy, then started to pull the covers over their heads.

"What are you—"

"Shh," Harry said, fastening the edges of the blankets to the bedposts. He turned on the flashlight and glanced around the tiny makeshift tent he'd created, satisfied. Malfoy looked impressed. "Cute," he remarked.

Harry just grinned and moved closer. "So, how are you liking it here so far?"

Malfoy shrugged. "Okay, I suppose. It's no Hogwarts, but it'll do."

"Do you miss it? I do. Some nights, I dream I'm in the Gryffindor dorm again, getting up to eat breakfast in the Great Hall. Going to Transfigurations, Potions, Charms. Playing a bit of Quidditch outside, maybe going to Hogsmeade on the weekends. But then I wake up, and I'm here. And that stuff I used to take for granted is gone. You know?"

Malfoy looked straight into his eyes. "Yeah, I miss it too. Funny how that works."

"Don't get me wrong, I like it here too. It's a great experience. I only wish I'd appreciated Hogwarts more when I had the chance."

"I completely understand that," Malfoy replied, toying with the bottoms of his pajama pants idly. "I used to hate Care of Magical Creatures, but I'm sort of starting to miss that too. It's strange."

Harry snorted. "You hated Hagrid, that's why."

"I guess. I don't really hate him anymore, though," Malfoy said softly.

Harry watched as Malfoy's face became more reserved, and realized that the boy was probably doing that thing again that nobody was allowed to see but Harry. He felt warmth in his chest at the thought. "I know," he replied, putting a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. He decided to change the subject. "So who do you fancy?"

Malfoy's head shot up. "Nobody," he answered, a little too quickly.

"Come on," Harry urged, "there's got to be somebody."

Malfoy shook his head. "I'm not the 'fancying people' type," he explained.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware there was a type. Didn't you have any crushes back at Hogwarts?"

"No. Well, I might've deluded myself once or twice about Pansy, but she's my friend. That's understandable. And a few others, but those are irrelevant."

"Like who?"

Harry saw Malfoy blush a little from the dim glow of the flashlight. "Nott. Maybe Blaise, at one point. I don't know."

Harry didn't respond for a while, only processing his answer. Well, it was clear that Malfoy wasn't straight, but perhaps bisexual. That didn't bother Harry at all. He had friends who were in the same situation, and he supported them fully. He noticed Malfoy observing him carefully for his response to that. Harry just shrugged. "All right. Well you already know my previous crushes."

"Yeah, Chang and the Weaselette," Malfoy muttered.

"Hey! Don't call her that, she's still my friend, you know."

"Sorry. Whatever happened to that, anyway?"

"Didn't work out. We both tried so hard to make it work, to be happy in some relationship we didn't want. It was ideal, and everybody expected it. It was mostly because we knew that we were never right for each other that we kept trying. Because we wished we were."

Malfoy was quiet for a while, and Harry wondered what was going on in his head. Was he freaked out that Harry was sharing so much with him? Or was he happy that Harry confided in him? Harry didn't know why he was doing so himself, just that he'd been dying to share his thoughts with someone ever since they'd arrived. Sure, Ron and Hermione would listen, but there were some things that Harry couldn't bear to discuss with them, such as why his and Ginny's relationship didn't work out. Ron was still a bit pissy over that. Finally, Malfoy responded. "I see. I guess it's somewhat difficult for me to understand. I've never felt that way about anybody before."

"You've never cared about anyone before?"

Malfoy paused. "I'm not sure. Maybe Mother…"

Harry felt a twinge of sadness. Malfoy didn't truly love anyone. He tried to imagine how life would be, not knowing that Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione, or any of his friends loved him and that he loved them back. It was a lonely existence. He glanced at Malfoy's uncertain expression and decided that he wasn't alone. Harry cared about him. Or would grow to care, at the very least. "Do you believe in love at first sight, Malfoy?"

The other boy looked straight into his eyes. "No."

Harry smiled. "Good."

Malfoy smiled back, and reached out to brush Harry's fringe out of his eyes. Then he drew back quickly, as if shocked with himself for doing it. Harry felt that warmth in his chest again at the tender gesture, and he wondered if it was supposed to feel this way with just a friend. He decided that he honestly didn't know.

As they chatted about this and that, Harry realized that he could sit here in this little makeshift fort and talk to Malfoy forever, just the two of them, and he'd always be happy. Because at the moment, there was nothing in the world more satisfying than making Malfoy smile at one of his jokes, or teasing him with playful banter. In their little hideaway, all was well. This was still in Harry's mind as he leaned back sleepily, aware that Malfoy was snuggled into the crook of his arm beside him. And that was how they fell asleep.

**Author's Note: Whoa, long chapter! I hope you enjoyed it :) I'm starting to go deeper into their relationship, which is my very favorite to write about. The build-up! Expect more of that in the near future. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Thank you for all your kind reviews! So, onwards with the eventual romantic build-up! **

Chapter 7

Draco heard the piercing ring of their alarm clock going off on his bedside table, but he did not reach out to quiet it. No, he was much too comfortable and warm to move. He listened to the shrill noise for a few minutes with closed eyes, then sighed and turned his face towards his pillow. Only, it wasn't his pillow. Not unless his pillow had suddenly acquired toned, lean muscles and radiated body heat...

Draco's eyes flew open as he realized his head was resting on Potter's chest. He blinked a couple of times in confusion before looking around and remembering the fort Potter had made when he'd woken him up at three in the morning. It was going to be a long day, considering he hadn't gotten more than three hours of slumber in all. He glanced up at Potter, sleeping peacefully despite the blaring din. _It was worth it_, Draco thought. He closed his eyes once more and pressed his cheek to the other boy's chest as it rose and fell, feeling distinctly as if he were aboard a boat on a calm sea, the waves moving him up and down and up and down again. He listened to the hum of Potter's rhythmic heartbeat that almost matched his serene breathing. Draco felt as if he could fall back asleep, regardless of the alarm screaming at him to get up.

He smiled a little and buried his nose into Potter's t-shirt, recognizing a faint fragrance of clean linen. Not just average everyday linen, but linen that possessed a delicate hint of summer strawberries, or something else sweet. Draco realized that no matter how atrociously the ex-Gryffindor dressed, he always seemed to smell nice. Potter didn't use cologne of any sort, though he always managed to radiate some appealing fragrance. Like the perfume of fresh, strawberry-scented linens for instance, or the slight woodsy, cinnamon aroma during class or study time. Even after soccer practices, Potter smelled pleasantly of newly cut grass and earth.

Draco shook his head. Why was he lying here contemplating the different smells of Harry Potter? Apparently, the lack of sleep had already gone to his brain. He thanked Merlin that he had had the good sense to complete his homework on the previous night. Suddenly, the body underneath him stirred and Potter gazed down at him with a sleepy smile. "Morning."

"Good morning," Draco replied. He felt a bit silly, since his head was still resting on Potter's chest, but the other boy didn't seem to mind.

"What time is it?" Potter asked, frowning a little from the background noise of the alarm that was still going off.

"Time for us to get up," Draco said, lifting his head to look at him, "we've got breakfast in a few."

Potter grinned and placed his hand on Draco's neck, gently pulling him back to his chest. Draco obliged without argument, not truly wanting to move anyway. "We've got time. Besides, we barely got any sleep last night."

"And whose fault was that?"

Potter laughed. "Well, you didn't stop me. So it was equally yours, as well."

"Fine. Next time, I'll turn you away and you'll have to go back to bed."

"You wouldn't!"

"Try me!" Potter didn't have a response, so both boys just grinned at each other for a couple moments before Draco's smile slid into a smirk. "That's what I thought."

"Shut up, you prat."

Draco chuckled and bit his lip, letting his eyes slide shut. He felt Potter's arm casually wrap around his waist. Was Potter trying to put the moves on him? Did Draco want him to? Nothing was quite certain for Draco when it came to the green-eyed boy. Still, he was careful not to show any unusual reactions in case it wasn't anything special, which in Potter's case, it probably wasn't. "Hey, we left the flashlight on," Potter remarked, shifting a bit to pick up the small object. "Except now it's out of batteries."

"Guess we shouldn't have just fell asleep like that."

"If I remember correctly, it was you who became drowsy first," Potter pointed out.

Draco turned his head and glared up at him. "Not my fault that the conversation got boring," he retorted.

Potter smiled a little. "It's never your fault, is it?" he teased. "Anyway, I'm not saying it's a bad thing. You're actually somewhat tolerable when you're sleepy. Like a kitten."

"_What_?" Draco exclaimed, jerking his head up to stare at the other boy in shock, "I do not resemble a kitten in any manner!"

"You so do! And you snuggle like one, too!"

"I do _not_ snuggle!"

"Oh? What were you just doing, then?"

Draco felt his cheeks burn. "Accidental resting," he snapped.

Potter gently squeezed him with the arm draped across Draco's torso. "Well, I like it when you accidentally rest on me," he replied good-naturedly. Draco tried to come up with a snide rebuttal to that, but he couldn't think of anything. Especially over that stupid happy buzz his brain was experiencing because of that affectionate gesture Potter had just made. What the hell was wrong with him today? It wasn't as if Potter had never touched him before.

"God fucking damn it, would someone please make that alarm shut the hell up?" Draco heard the muffled voices of Derek, one of Scott's roommates, through the blankets of their fort. "How the fuck are you guys still sleeping over this?"

Potter chuckled quietly and leaned in close. "Looks like we weren't the only room awakened by our alarm," he whispered.

Draco shook his head in amazement. "I can't believe Finnigan and Finch-Fletchley are still asleep. And they thought _you _were the heavy sleeper."

There were some shuffling noises, followed by a sharp yelp and a loud thump. "All right, all right, we're up!" Finnigan shouted. Presumably, Derek and some of the other guys had forcibly gotten the other two boys up.

"Turn off the goddamn alarm!"

"Yeah, yeah," the Irish boy muttered. A few moments later the room was marvelously silent. "I don't see why you couldn't turn it off yourselves," he complained.

Draco heard Scott's cheerful voice boom from the other side of the dorm. "You guys needed to get up anyway. It's almost—whoa, what is _that_?" There was a pause as the occupants of the room turned to look at whatever it was that Scott had seen. And apparently, he'd seen the fort on Draco's bed. "Are those blankets? Cool! Draco made a little stronghold!"

"Oi, but where's Harry?"

"I don't know. Maybe he already got up?"

Potter giggled. "They're onto us," he murmured. Draco just snorted. Suddenly, a beacon of light shone into his eyes as the blankets were pulled back to reveal a room full of teenage boys in their pajamas. Draco made a noise of discontent and buried his face into Potter's shirt.

Everyone in the room gasped in surprise and delight. "Whoa! What the hell is going on here?" Finnigan exclaimed.

"Put the covers down," Draco whined, still trying to shield his eyes. "My head hurts."

Potter sighed. "I couldn't sleep last night," he explained, while absently rubbing Draco's shoulder with his thumb, "so I woke him up and we made a fort. Then we talked for a while."

Scott started laughing. "You _talked_? Huh, so that's what they call it these days."

"If by 'it' you mean having a decent conversation, then yes, we did," Potter answered innocuously.

"Only decent?" Longbottom asked, appearing from behind another one of Scott's roommates, dressed in grey and white plaid pajamas. "I'd of thought it would have been at least fantastic, considering the amount of 'talk' the Slytherins are known for."

"Shouldn't you be in your dorm with your _Slytherin _roommates?" Draco sneered, annoyed that the skittish boy dared to make fun of him like that.

Longbottom shrugged. "Yeah, but then we're all here, aren't we guys?"

"Oh yes, Drake," he heard Pansy chirp.

"We're here," Nott reiterated.

Blaise just smirked.

Draco groaned. "When the fuck did you guys get all buddy-buddy with the Shlongbottom?"

"He's not so bad," Pansy replied, throwing an arm around the boy. "Decent conversationalist, really. Or should I say fantastic." She wiggled her eyebrows provocatively. Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust. When had his friends become so… _friendly_? Evidently, he hadn't been hanging around them enough lately. He eyed Longbottom distrustfully. It was already weird enough that the boy was making friends with his friends, but now it was clear that he was also having some sort of effect on them. As much as his rude, blunt, annoying friends aggravated him sometimes, he wouldn't love them any other way.

"Now, now, let's stop teasing them," Finch-Fletchley said. "It's breakfast in a half hour anyway. We all better get ready." Draco sighed and reluctantly rose, rolling off the bed with Potter following him. He was so exhausted that he could barely walk straight, and all of his friends and floor mates were continuously winking and making suggestive remarks about him and Potter. Again, it was going to be a _long_ day.

**~x~**

Harry crashed onto the couch, too weary to properly change out of his school clothes and crawl into bed for a nap. His classes had been exceptionally grueling, and soccer practice was absolute hell. All he wanted to do was sleep for the whole evening. Perhaps the rest of his life, too. He sensed a familiar presence arrive and sit down on the loveseat across from him. "Hey," Ron greeted.

"Mmph," Harry replied, too tired to come up with an actual response. He slid down and rested his head on a pillow.

Ron reached over and patted his knee. "Tired?"

"Mph, yeah," Harry mumbled.

Ron laughed. "Maybe you shouldn't have such late nights, mate. Unless of course, you've got a girl you're not telling me about," he said slyly.

Harry snorted. "That's ridiculous, Ron. No girl has even made the effort to look at me, let alone fancy me."

"Oh, trust me, they're looking," another voice piped up, and Harry felt the couch dip slightly as Malfoy sat down next to him. "I mean, who wouldn't?" Though the boy had gone without sleep as well, he didn't appear a drowsy mess like Harry was. He seemed perfectly alert, in fact.

Ron glared at the blonde boy. "Why do you care?"

Malfoy shrugged. "I watch his back, Weasley. That's what friends do, but I'm sure you wouldn't know."

Ron tensed visibly and his eyes narrowed. "Watching his back, Malfoy? Or watching his backside—?"

"Both, thank you very much—!"

Harry sat up. He had to stop them before wands were brought out again. "Don't, Ron. And stop taunting him, Malfoy. Honestly, can't you guys at least _pretend_ to get along?"

Malfoy sniffed. "I will if he will."

Ron rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed by Malfoy's pompous manner. "Fine. Whatever."

"Good." Harry stretched out, settling his legs across Malfoy's lap. The other boy didn't seem to mind him, even as he wriggled around to get into a comfortable position.

Seamus walked over and waved at them, sitting next to Ron on the loveseat. "Hi, guys," he said. "Still sleepy?"

Harry nodded. "Me more than him," he gestured towards Malfoy. "I don't understand why."

Malfoy played with ends of Harry's denims distractedly. "I can hold my own a lot better than you, Potter," he replied.

Harry grinned. "Is that so?"

"Yes, it's so."

"Must be another oh so special Malfoy thing."

Malfoy smirked. "It is, in fact."

"Mm-hm," Harry murmured, leaning back and closing his eyes.

"We're going to go get some food. Do you guys want to come?" Justin called from across the room. Harry shook his head no, but Ron and Seamus got up from their seats to go. Harry noticed that Malfoy didn't reply though. Apparently Seamus and Justin did too, and they exchanged glances. Before they walked away Seamus paused and turned to Malfoy.

"You know you can come, if you want to Malfoy," he offered quietly.

There was a pause before Malfoy said anything. He was clearly a bit surprised at the suggestion. "No, that's okay. I'll stay here with Potter."

"All right. See you later." "Yeah, see you Malfoy."

"Bye."

Harry appreciated that Seamus and Justin were genuinely trying to accept Malfoy into their daily lives, especially now that he and Harry were friends. He knew it was difficult for them to forget their past loathing and forgive Malfoy for all that he had done to them. For him, it hadn't really been all that tough. Harry didn't know why, but it seemed almost instinctive to fall into a combined schedule with Malfoy from the moment that they began tolerating each other. Maybe he was just a naturally forgiving person, but he didn't think that was the case. There was just something changed about Malfoy that made Harry feel so happy, even though he used to make him furious. He just wished that Ron would take Seamus's and Justin's examples and accept Malfoy. He was his oldest and closest friend, after all, and he didn't like the awkward silences that ensued whenever he was with both him and Malfoy. Why couldn't everybody just get along?

"Are you thinking or are you sleeping?" Malfoy inquired softly. His fingers were tracing light circles on Harry's ankles.

"A little bit of both," Harry replied.

Malfoy smiled. He was making tiny swirls now. "What are you thinking about?"

"Oh, just random thoughts. Like how I wish you and Ron would get along."

"I don't know if that's possible, honestly."

"It was possible for you and me," Harry argued, "so why shouldn't it be for you and him?"

Malfoy brushed back a piece of stray hair on Harry's forehead, and this time he didn't cringe away in discomfort. "It's not the same with him as it is with you."

Harry bit his lip, not knowing what to say, or what that even meant. It was like Malfoy was a completely different person around him than he was around others. With Harry, he was clever, funny, and nice even. But when anybody else was around, he'd fall back into the role of 'cold bastard' he'd previously labeled himself as. Harry didn't understand it. What made him so special? "I don't get why it's different," he said, finally.

"_It's_ not different. _You_ are."

"I am what?"

"Different."

As Malfoy's slate grey eyes met his, Harry felt a spark of something in his chest. He frowned questioningly. Different how? Malfoy only gave him a tiny smile in answer and resumed his finger tracings on Harry's ankle. Harry gazed up at him speculatively. This was the Draco Malfoy that he'd grown to like, the one that spent all night in a fort with him and cuddled with him and rubbed his ankles, the one that was insecure and spoke his mind and _smiled_. This was the boy that nobody ever gave chances to, because he refused to let anybody in. Except for Harry. Why was that? "Why won't you let anyone see what I see?" Harry murmured.

Malfoy looked startled. "What do you mean?"

Harry sat up. "You know what I mean. You say you're a cold bastard, but we both know you're not. We're the only ones who know you're not. Why?"

"I'm not good with this stuff, emotions," Malfoy said carefully, uncertainly, "I never have been. I never saw the worth. Why bother wasting my time on people that don't matter? I've come to find over the years that the majority of people that I meet won't."

"But I do?"

"Yes."

Without warning, Harry found himself putting a hand on Malfoy's arm and leaning in so close that he could feel the other boy's warm breath on his face. Horrified by what he'd so rashly done, he tried to draw back and apologize with some excuse, but Malfoy's grip kept him firmly in place. The blonde boy's cool lips brushed lightly across his cheek and he shuddered. Before Harry could decipher whether it had been a mistake or not, the sound of the door opening interrupted the deafening silence. "Hey J, can I—oh!" The feel of Malfoy's lips disappeared from his cheek. Harry turned around and saw Scott standing there, looking thoroughly amused.

"Do you _knock_?" Malfoy demanded, his fair skin slightly flushed. Whether it was from embarrassment or exhilaration, Harry didn't know.

"Sorry, I was just trying to find Justin for this—wait, hey, I should be the one asking questions here. What were you guys doing?"

"Nothing, we were just talking," Harry told him quickly.

Scott grinned. "Again with the 'talking', boys?" he asked, making air quotes with his fingers.

"That's none of your business." Malfoy snapped. Harry didn't even know if it was any of his own business, either. Because he sure didn't know what the hell was going on.

Scott laughed. "Come on, we're bros. I'm not judging you at all, I'm really not. I think it's cool that you guys are such good _friends_."

"Shove off, nothing's going on!"

"Oh really? Then what were you doing to Harry just before I walked in, Draco? Because it looked like something was going on to me."

Malfoy looked lost for words. "I… I… He had something on his face," he tried.

"Did he have something on his mouth, too?" Scott asked smugly.

"No! He had… chocolate on his cheek. I was merely helping out a friend."

"Oh yeah, that makes sense. You know, I always lick chocolate off my platonic friend's face in a completely heterosexual way too. No joke."

"You're a shitface," Malfoy deadpanned.

"Thanks," Scott replied, still smiling. "I'll leave you two to your activities now."

He turned away and walked out the door, leaving Harry alone with Malfoy again. There was a long, uncomfortable silence. What was Harry supposed to say?_ So what'd you think of yesterday's chemistry assignment? Who do you think is going to win the World Cup this year? Do you want to lick my face now? _He coughed. "So…"

"So…" Malfoy wasn't looking him in the eye.

"Did I really have chocolate…?"

"Yeah," Malfoy said, still refusing to make eye contact, "I was honestly trying to help you."

"Funny, I haven't had any chocolate today," Harry mused.

"It just looked like it," Malfoy mumbled.

"Right."

They sat in silence for a couple more minutes. Harry twiddled his thumbs and Malfoy stared at the back wall emotionlessly. What just went on here? One minute they were having a light conversation and the next they were sitting in terrible, awkward silence. Finally, Harry couldn't take it. "I'm going to go get—"

"Right, yeah, have fun."

Harry stood up and walked out of the room as quickly as possible. As soon as he was out, he realized that he had no idea where he intended to go. Instinctively, he started heading towards Ron and Hermione's dorm. The door to the room was slightly ajar, so Harry walked right up and was about to push it open when he heard whispered voices coming from inside. "They were _what_?" Hermione's distinct voice sounded incredulous. Harry could only guess that whoever was in that room was talking about him and Malfoy.

"Kissing, I think. Or about to." Yeah, there's Scott. Harry was about to go in and set them straight when he heard another voice.

"Well, we did have our suspicions," Seamus said, "about Harry's feelings for him. Justin and I were trying really hard to be nice and supportive. Thought it would've taken longer, though."

"Do you really think he has feelings for him?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah." It was Justin's voice now. "I mean, there has to be something. Even if it wasn't romantic, Harry obviously likes him for some reason. We haven't really figured that one out yet though. He seems like the same old prat he always was back in—" he paused, probably aware that he almost spoke of Hogwarts in front of a muggle, "—in London."

"Right," Scott said, clearly not picking up on the almost slip-up. "So what do we do? Should we get them together?"

"No…" Harry could just picture Hermione shaking her head in that disapproving way. "We've got to let them do that on their own. Plus, it wouldn't be fair to them if we manipulated their relationship."

"Should we tell the others?" Harry assumed that he meant Ron, Luna, Dean, and Neville, who didn't seem to be present at this little meeting.

"Well, I don't know about Ron… I think we should just wait it out. Do nothing."

"Excellent," Seamus piped up. "We can wait. I mean, all I really want is for Harry to be happy."

"We all want him to be happy," Hermione corrected, "and Malfoy too."

"Yes, Malfoy too."

Harry walked away at that point, his head muddled with confusion. Why were his friends acting this way? Did they know something that he didn't? His head was spinning with several thoughts. Was he gay? Did he have feelings for Malfoy? Did he want to have feelings for him? He remembered the way Malfoy's white-blonde locks looked while he slept on Harry's chest, the feel of his lips on Harry's cheek. _Butterflies. Lots of them._ But did he really want to risk breaking the shaky bridge he had only recently attained with the ex-Slytherin?

Harry decided he needed friendly guidance right now. Someone who wouldn't judge him. And he knew exactly who he needed to talk to.

**Author's Note: So I hope I'm not moving too fast for anyone! I was contemplating that myself, but I decided that I would write it this way because I don't want to drag it on _forever_… All right, you guys can expect some interesting chapters coming up then! **


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: All your reviews make me smile, I love them. And that is why I started a new chapter at 10 pm on a school night, fully aware that I probably wouldn't be done until at least 1! Plus I didn't even look at my homework. Totally worth it, though.**

Chapter 8

Draco glanced at his watch, then up at the classroom door, then back at his watch. Potter was already 10 minutes late to music, and he hadn't shown up to lunch. Actually, Draco really hadn't seen much of the boy for the past week. He was always 'busy' with soccer, homework, and he tended to disappear at random intervals during the day. Not that Draco minded, of course. He didn't feel neglected or anything. He sighed and glanced at the door again. All right, so he was a _bit_ miffed that Potter wasn't around lately, especially since they had only recently decided to be friends and because, well…

He thought back to that night the week before when he had been _this close_ to actually kissing Potter. On the lips. He hadn't meant to do it, honestly, but when the other boy had moved in towards him like that, something in Draco's brain just snapped. Maybe it was his willpower or his self-control, but whatever it was, it filled him with an insatiable desire to ravish the living daylights out of the poor boy. But then bloody Scott had interrupted and that was the end of it, as well as the end of ever knowing what the hell that emotion was he had been feeling when he'd been about to kiss Potter… and not to mention getting to analyze how the other boy might react if he did. Draco was sure that he would never hear the end of Scott's hinting jokes but the boy hadn't even mentioned it at all. The silence was a bit strange coming from the normally boisterous boy, but whatever it was that held him back, Draco didn't question it.

His head snapped up as he heard the door open creakily and Potter scurried over to the seat next to him, looking just a little flustered. "Ah, Harry. How wonderful of you to join us today," Dumbledore called out pleasantly.

Potter cringed visibly in his chair. "My pleasure, sir," he responded quietly. Then he took out his music sheets and started to study them.

Draco leaned in and nudged his shoulder. "Hey, where were you at lunch?"

Potter didn't look up. "I went out with a friend today, got a bit caught up. That's why I'm late."

"Oh. Well, you missed spaghetti."

"Whatever, it'll be back next Wednesday."

Draco sat back in his chair and picked at his fingernails miserably. What a fountain of information Potter was. Well, he didn't want to know anyway. And why should he? It wasn't as if Potter was all that interesting anyhow. He spent the rest of the period and the next one studiously ignoring the dark-haired boy save for a few questions when needed. It had no effect though, because it seemed Potter was ignoring him too.

**~x~**

"Hey," Blaise said, looking up from his desk to greet Draco as he walked into the dorm. "What brings you here? Thought you'd be studying with your new best friend or something," he joked.

Draco chuckled, but he actually felt quite terrible that he hadn't been seeing much of Blaise or the others lately. It was even worse considering that they all knew the reason he hadn't been was Potter. It was sort of embarrassing, really, but Blaise didn't seem angry. Besides, he hung out with Longbottom a lot nowadays, so he wasn't one to complain. "Yeah, well, I wanted to see you today. What are you doing?"

Blaise held up some papers. "Homework. But it can wait if you want to do something else. Maybe go get some dinner?"

Draco nodded. "Sounds good. Where do you want to eat?"

"We could go to—oh shit, I forgot. I was supposed to have dinner with Neville tonight. Maybe we could do something after?"

Draco sighed. It seemed like he was being constantly considered as second priority to everyone lately. "Sure."

At that moment, Longbottom walked into the room. "Hi Blaise, Malfoy," he greeted.

Blaise glanced at Draco briefly, and then waved at Longbottom. "Hey Neville. Say, do you think that Draco could join us for dinner tonight? We could go to that place you really like, by the bookshop."

As much as he hated being left out, Draco didn't want to be a charity case. Especially not at the hands of Neville Longbottom. "No, that's okay," he said quickly. "We can just hang out afterwards Blaise, I don't mind."

Longbottom frowned. "You can go out with Malfoy if you want, Blaise. Don't you remember? I told you I was going to dinner with Harry tonight."

Blaise smacked his forehead. "Oh yeah! I remember that."

Longbottom smiled and turned to leave. "No you didn't. But go ahead, have fun."

Before he could walk out, Draco stopped him. "You're going out with Potter? Where?"

"Chez Louis's. It's this great little bistro on the other side of campus. Harry loves it, so we've already gone at least 3 times this week. You guys feel like joining us?"

Draco smiled, finally finding his excuse to spend time with Potter. "Sure, why not. That okay, Blaise?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

Longbottom pulled a muggle mobile phone out of his pocket. "Brilliant, let me just—" he trailed off, pressing a few buttons before nodding. "All right, we're set."The trio left the building and walked to the bistro together, chatting amicably the whole way. Draco was surprised to find that Longbottom was pretty outgoing, and even a bit clever sometimes. He had certainly changed from being the jittery forgetful boy he was first year, and Draco could see why Blaise was so fond of him. He was full of witty remarks and had an easygoing persona.

When they arrived, Draco saw Potter sitting with his back to them at a small booth. He was talking with the waitress, smiling and using large hand gestures in a way only Potter could. Draco didn't know why the sight of the ex-Gryffindor's messy bedhead was making his stomach do flips. He gulped and tried to compose himself as they approached the table. "Hey Harry," Longbottom said.

Potter glanced up with a smile to greet him, but the grin slipped from his face when he caught sight of Draco and Blaise behind him. "I didn't know we had company," he answered, a bit tersely.

"I texted you," Longbottom protested, holding up his phone as if it were proof.

Potter frowned, then pulled a similar looking mobile phone out of his blue sweatshirt. "Oh, so that's what that buzzing was. I don't know how to work this thing yet."

Longbottom smiled and turned to Blaise and Draco. "I took him to get a mobile on Monday, he's still getting used to it. You guys should get one too, it's really handy for fast communication." He looked back at Potter. "You don't mind if they join us, right?"

Potter's eyes flicked over at Draco for a moment, but he shook his head. "Not at all. Sit, sit."

Draco made a certain point to slide right across from Potter so that he could get a good look at him, and Blaise sat next to him. Neville slid in next to Potter. Once they were all seated, there was an uncomfortable silence that wasn't broken until the waitress reappeared. "So what can I get you guys?"

After they'd ordered, Blaise and Longbottom relayed a mundane story about how a squirrel ran off a tree branch and crashed into the window of their Art classroom while Potter squirmed in his seat, periodically glancing nervously at Longbottom. When the food came, Potter tapped him on the shoulder. "Can I talk to you for a minute in private?"

Longbottom shrugged. "Sure. Be right back, guys." He slid out of the booth, and Potter followed him. They walked over to the restrooms with their heads huddled together.

Blaise jerked his thumb in the direction they went. "What's up with him?"

Draco looked down at his food. "I don't know. And I don't particularly care, either."

Blaise frowned, picking up his fork and stabbing a leg of chicken with it. "Why not? Are you avoiding him?"

"Not really."

"Fighting?"

"No."

"Well, what is it then?"

Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know, honestly. Something—something happened a couple nights ago, and I think it made our friendship a bit awkward."

Blaise raised an eyebrow and took a bite of his food. After he finished chewing, he dropped his fork and picked the chicken up with his fingers instead. "What was it?"

"What was what?"

"The awkward thing that happened."

Draco blushed. Although Blaise was his best friend, there were some things that he would rather not discuss with him. And that included almost kisses with former archenemies. "It's not important."

Blaise snorted. "Right. You know, he's been spending quite a bit of time with Neville recently. You reckon there's something going on between them?"

Draco felt a pang of jealousy in his chest. "Isn't Longbottom straight?"

Blaise smirked. "Isn't Potter?" he countered. Draco coughed and looked away. Nothing got past this boy. Thankfully Potter and Longbottom reappeared at the table before he could answer.

Longbottom looked apologetic. "Sorry guys, but we have to head out. Harry isn't feeling very well." He motioned at a waitress and asked for a couple of takeaway boxes before turning back to them. "But we should do this again sometime." Draco saw Potter kick Longbottom's leg as if to protest that, but the other boy ignored him. "See you later."

"Bye."

Draco's heart sunk as Longbottom and Potter walked out of the restaurant. He watched Potter link arms with the other boy and beam, laughing and chatting animatedly. He was clearly the picture of health. Obviously, he'd faked feeling ill because he didn't want to be there with them... he didn't want to be there with Draco. But why? When he turned his attention back to the table, he found Blaise staring at him curiously. "Do you want to tell me what happened now?" he asked softly. Draco futilely attempted to conceal his emotions, before giving in and telling his best friend the whole story.

**~x~**

Harry flopped onto the couch back at his dorm while Neville stood above him with his hands on his hips. He'd already received a mild scolding for the way he had behaved at the restaurant on the walk back, but now that they were alone the boy was sure to convey his disappointment in a much more distinct manner. "Why did you act like that? You could have at least smiled at him!"

Harry sighed. "You just threw me into the situation. I'm not ready yet! I can hardly tell any of my feelings apart, Neville. I can't just sit there and pretend I'm having a good time."

"Yeah, you couldn't, and you didn't. If you were even _trying_ to pretend to be enjoying yourself, which I'm sure you weren't, you failed quite wretchedly. Harry, you've got to make up your mind. Do you fancy him or don't you?" Harry looked away. He had gone to Neville for support, knowing that the kind boy wouldn't judge him or try and sway his opinion. And he was right, Neville had been an excellent listener and he knew how to give advice without pushing it upon him. Harry had been having a rather nice time talking to him throughout the week, plus it was another reason to keep away from Malfoy. Because whenever Harry caught sight of the blonde boy, his heart skipped beats and his head became muddled with uncertainty. It would be extremely irresponsible of him to make any decisions in that condition.

Neville sat down next to him on the couch. "Don't you realize how you're making_ him_ feel? You go and announce a friendship with him, and then you randomly start acting like he doesn't exist? Merlin, I'd be confused as hell. It's not fair to him, and who knows? Maybe he fancies you too."

Harry shook his head. "Impossible. He'd never fancy me."

"You never know. And didn't you say that he kissed your cheek?"

"I don't know what that was. He said he was helping me get chocolate off my face."

Neville snorted. "That's likely. Come on, all you need to do is talk to him. I did this tonight in hopes that you would, but clearly that wasn't the case. I reckon I didn't realize how it would affect you. And I do believe that you should wait for the moment it feels right. The truth will come out then, even if you don't fully understand it yourself. So from now on I won't intervene, and you can do it on your own time. But please, think about it?" Harry nodded in concurrence just so that he would drop the subject, and it worked. The other boy beamed, clearly convinced he had gotten through, and placed a hand on Harry's knee. Harry gave him a tiny smile in return. Neville had good intentions, he truly did. It was himself that Harry was worried about.

All of a sudden, the door swung open and Malfoy trudged in noisily, dropping his coat and book bag on the floor with a distressed expression on his face. Harry gasped, causing the other boy to look up and notice him as well. His grey eyes flicked down to Neville's hand on Harry's knee. "Sorry, I didn't realize the dorm was occupied. I'll just leave now," he announced coldly, whirling around to storm out.

Neville nudged his shoulder insistently, so Harry cleared his throat. "Hey. Hey Malfoy, don't go yet." Malfoy looked over his shoulder at him with a solemn expression, but didn't answer immediately. "Please?" Harry tried again.

Malfoy sighed. "Fine. But make it snappy. I've got places and people I'd rather see."

Neville stood up and patted Harry's shoulder. "I'll be going now. See you guys later." He sent a meaningful look towards him and smiled at Malfoy before walking out the door and shutting it closed. The slam echoed, making the silence in the room ten times louder than it had been previously.

"Will you sit down?" Harry asked, after a few more moments of quiet.

"Why should I?" Malfoy responded snidely.

Harry sighed and stood up, walking over to where the other boy was. "Look, I know I've been an arse this week—"

Malfoy snorted. "An arse? Please. That's putting it nicely. I'm Draco Malfoy, for fuck's sake. Nobody blows me off and gets away with it."

"I know. And I'm sorry, it's just that I've had a lot on my mind lately."

"And you don't think I have? Potter, if you have an issue with me, go ahead and say it to my face. Yell at me, blame me, hit me for all I care! But don't freeze me out and pretend like everything's normal, because it's not. I want to fucking know, what_ is_ your problem with me?"

Harry looked at the floor guiltily. "My problem isn't _with_ you…"

"What?"

"My problem _is _you."

Malfoy's hard gaze softened when Harry's voice cracked. He moved closer and searched his face concernedly. "Are you crying? Don't cry, please. I didn't mean to make you sad."

Harry shook his head, a small laugh escaping from his lips. "No, you didn't make me sad. The very opposite, in fact. I love being around you."

"Then why have you been shutting me out?"

Harry took a deep breath and looked up at him. Was this 'The Moment' that Neville had been talking about? Standing here so very close to Malfoy, who clearly cared about him in some way or another, and gazing into his vivid grey eyes, it was hard to believe it wasn't. Harry closed his eyes and buried his face into the crook of Malfoy's neck. "I don't know. I'm so stupid and sorry."

Malfoy raised his eyebrows in surprise, but wrapped his arms around Harry to complete the hug. "You are stupid," he agreed, "and you sure as hell are sorry."

Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Of course."

Before he could decide whether or not to take the next step, Malfoy spoke up again. "So now that we're okay again, what do you say we build another fort tonight? But this time, bring your own pillow because I'm not sure if you're aware of it, but you're a massive pillow hog."

Harry smiled and decided that 'The Moment' could wait. For now.

**~x~**

Two weeks later, Harry was studying in one of the campus libraries when Malfoy walked up and joined him. He held up a hot pink flyer in front of Harry's face. "The big football game against Evermount is this weekend. Should we go?"

Harry pushed the paper away and gave him a look. "Since when have you been interested in American football?" he asked.

Malfoy shrugged. "Since never. But everybody's going, so I reckon we should as well. Besides, you don't have practice and we barely received any homework."

Harry nodded. "True. But don't you have choir practice?"

Malfoy made a face. "I don't know or care. It's your fault that I even joined anyway."

Harry smiled and shook his head. After their reconciliation Malfoy had been carefully pleasant to him for a day or two, which gave Harry enough time to convince the other boy to join the choir. It was hardly a bother for him to go to practices, plus Malfoy had a decent voice. Sometimes, Harry even went as well, to support him. Or to force him to keep on with it, but details, details. As a result of the amount of time they'd spent together, Harry had learned how to read Malfoy quite well, so he was certain that the other boy only pretended to hate choir and secretly enjoyed being a part of something.

"You should go, though. I'll come with you if you want."

"Well, since you dragged me into it, it's only fair."

Harry laughed. "Sure. So we can go to choir, then the game. Sound good?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Brilliant. Now come on, let's get to the dining hall. I heard they're serving lasagna tonight."

**~x~**

When Harry and Malfoy arrived at choir practice the following Saturday, Dumbledore greeted them merrily. "Boys! Glad you could make it this week. We've been practicing some lovely tunes lately, right students?" The others nodded enthusiastically. There was a girl named Leslie, another girl named Farrah, a boy named Reed and two other girls he didn't recognize. Ginny was in the choir as well, but she wasn't at practice today because she was a cheerleader and she had to prepare for the game.

After they got seated, Dumbledore began to fill them in on the agenda. "We've decided that for our next concert, we'll do a few group numbers that you may be interested in learning. And since we're playing our rival school tonight, the principal thought it a splendid idea for a few performances as entertainment during halftime. The rest of us have been practicing for a few hours now, and I'm afraid that we've already arranged the song according to ourselves. But I'm sure you two can come up with your own number. Is that all right?"

Harry frowned. "Our own number? What do you mean?"

"A duet, of course."

"Well, what would we sing?"

Dumbledore handed them a sheet with a list of modern pop songs they could choose from. "Just take your pick and approve it with me. I'll have to get the music set up."

Harry nodded and turned to Malfoy, who was studying the list. "See anything good?"

Malfoy pointed at one. "How about this? It's basically the only song I know on here."

Harry glanced at it. "Yeah, okay. I've heard it on the radio a couple of times, so I think I'll be okay. Should we practice?"

Malfoy shook his head and smirked. "Please. I do not need practice. Besides, Old Man Musical over there thought we were good enough to do our own thing. Our voices _do_ harmonize quite well."

Harry shrugged. He had a theory that the Headmaster had ulterior motives for making them duet, but he wasn't going to share that with Malfoy. "Fine. We can just head to the game then, and meet up with Dumbledore when it's time."

"All right."

The pair walked over to the enormous stadium just as dusk was setting and players were warming up on the field. Harry grinned and waved at Ron and Hermione, who were both sitting a few seats up from them on the bleachers. "Hey, come sit with us!" Hermione called, motioning him over.

"We'll come over after halftime," Harry yelled back, "we're participating in it and we should stay close to the field." Hermione only smiled in response, so Harry turned back around, rubbing his hands together to keep warm. Though it wasn't snowing, as it would be at Hogwarts, it was still in the middle of wintertime and rather cool out.

Malfoy gave him an amused look. "Just because we're not in Scotland anymore doesn't mean you can go out with only a flimsy jumper on. Here," he unraveled his Slytherin green scarf from his neck and wrapped it around Harry's. Then he gently took his hand and rubbed it between his own for a few minutes. "Better?" Harry nodded silently, mesmerized by the pinkness spreading across Malfoy's nose and cheeks from the cold. He was sure his own face was blotchy as well, but it obviously wouldn't look nearly as adorable on him as it did on Malfoy.

They watched the first half of the game, occasionally cheering when their team scored a point, or booing when the other team did. They chatted about the players and bet on which plays they might use next, purchased hot chocolate and scooted together for extra warmth. At least, that's what Harry's excuse was. In all honesty, he just loved being close to Malfoy.

When it was halftime, Harry saw Dumbledore motion them over. They got up and walked slowly over to him, limbs stiff from the cold and lack of recent movement. "So this is your pianist, Paul," Dumbledore introduced a middle-aged, jovial looking man with bright blue eyes and a toothy smile. "And here is your lyric sheets and miniature microphones. Just pin them to your shirts—like this. You'll go after the group performance, is that clear?"

They both nodded and Dumbledore left to assist the others, satisfied that they were both prepared. Harry watched as the others sang an original rendition of "Rolling in the Deep" by Adele. It was quite impressive, actually, and he wondered whether or not it'd be okay to run off the field when the crowd booed him and Malfoy for being so unrehearsed. The other boy noticed his apprehension and squeezed his arm. "It'll be okay," he reassured. But Harry wasn't feeling okay when they stepped out in the middle of the field, with all the bright lights shining down and a whole stadium full of their classmates and their rival classmates staring at them.

He turned to Malfoy with wide eyes. "I can't do this. Maybe you should just—"

"No, it'll be fine. Since when have you been afraid of anything? I know that you, the Saviour of the Wizarding World, the Boy Who Lived Twice, can't seriously be intimidated by a simple performance," Malfoy challenged. Harry just rubbed his hands together anxiously in answer, and Malfoy took that as a sign that he was still chilly. He took Harry's hand in his again and squeezed it. "It'll be fine," he repeated in a nicer tone.

The announcer's voice boomed over the whole stadium. "And now, from Redmond Academy choir group, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter!"

Malfoy nodded at Harry in encouragement and squeezed his hand again quickly before letting go. The piano started playing and Malfoy turned on his mic and began to sing.

"_Yellow diamonds in the light, and we're standing side by side._

_As your shadow crosses mine, what it takes to come al-ii-ii-ive,_

_It's the way I'm feeling I just can't deny, but I've got to let it go…"_

Harry joined in for the chorus, aware that their voices corresponded beautifully, almost hauntingly, and echoed throughout the stadium.

"_We found love in a hopeless place, we found love in a hopeless place, we found love in a hopeless place, we found love in a hopeless place…"_

When he realized that people were actually listening and they weren't going to be booed off the field, Harry began to gain more confidence, just in time for his solo. His voice rang loud and clear into the night sky.

"_Shine a light through an open door, love and life I will divide,_

_Turn away 'cause I need you more, feel the heartbeat in my mii-ii-ind,_

_It's the way I'm feeling I just can't deny but I've got to let it go-o-o-o…"_

As they sang the chorus again, Harry tore his gaze away from the hundreds of students watching them from the bleachers and turned to Malfoy, who was looking straight at him while he was singing. Harry felt as though their harmonized voices had made them one. Malfoy's voice was gentle and lovely as they switched off.

"_Yellow diamonds in the light…"_

Harry continued for him.

"_As we're standing side by side…"_

Their voices combined again, Malfoy's higher pitch perfectly setting off Harry's lower tone as they sang the last bit of the song together.

_"As your shadow crosses mine… We found love in a hopeless place, we found love in a hopeless place, we found love in a hopeless place, we found love in a hopeless place..."_

The piano eventually ended as their voices trailed off. Still facing Malfoy, Harry could hear scores of applause in their audience. He felt a rush of success and pride dash through his veins, making his blood run hot with excitement. Grinning at Malfoy, who seemed lost in his own triumph at the moment, Harry grabbed his hand and pulled him off the field to the sidelines. "We did it!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms around Malfoy's neck ecstatically, trying not to jump up and down.

"Yeah we did," Malfoy replied, his normally stormy eyes shining dazzlingly. "And we fucking _killed_ it!"

Harry laughed and pulled back to take in the blonde boy's rosy face, glimmering eyes and triumphant expression. Maybe it was because of the adrenaline of performing and the excitement of the game rushing through his system. Maybe it was because Malfoy's beautiful face was a bit too close to his. And it was possible that 'The Moment' had a rapidly approaching expiration date. Because suddenly, without thinking, Harry lunged forward and kissed Malfoy right on the mouth.

**Author's Note: Whew. There's a long one! So the beginning was a bit slow, due to Harry's initial stubbornness and tendency to bottle up his problems (which I feel is a vital part of his personality that I must include). The song was 'We Found Love' by Rihanna. Except here, I imagined it a lot less pop-py, like maybe resembling a nice acoustic cover. So enjoy, enjoy, enjoy! **


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Whooohooo the suspense! It continues!**

Chapter 9

Their lips had hardly been touching for a moment when Malfoy jerked back and stared at Harry in shock. "What are you _doing_?"

Harry was frozen in place, unsure of how to explain his rash actions. "I—I don't… I'm sorry, I didn't mean it? It was a total mistake, it'll never happen again, I promise! I'm so sorry…" Malfoy had a weird look on his face when Harry stopped apologizing. Instead of responding, he turned around and walked back towards the stands where Blaise Zabini and the rest of the Slytherin crew were seated without another word or glance back. Harry watched him go, feeling increasingly regretful of his actions. He slowly made his way to sit with Hermione and Ron, who were completely oblivious to his downtrodden mood for the rest of the game.

After it was over, they all went back to their dorms and got ready for bed. Harry kept nervously glancing over at Malfoy, who was amongst the chattering group of boys in the restroom, a few sinks down from him. He took a deep breath and tried to build up his confidence. _This is Malfoy we're talking about here. Your friend. Your bunkmate. There's nothing to be afraid of. Just talk to him! _He scooted over so that he was right next to Malfoy. "Hey."

"Oh—! Hello…"

"So… good game, huh?"

"Erm, yeah. Good."

Harry cleared his throat as he racked his brain for something else to say. It never really was this difficult to create conversation with the blonde boy before. Of course, that was before Harry had stupidly gone and freaked him out. Maybe if he just acted casual… "You feeling like sleeping tonight? I don't." He lowered his voice to a whisper as to not alert the other boys. The fort was Harry and Malfoy's thing, he didn't want anybody else to get involved. "We can do it in my bed, if you want to come. I've got my flashlight and everything."

A look of shock crossed Malfoy's face for a moment. Harry noticed a slight pink flush spreading across his cheeks. "Wha—? Oh… No! No—I can't. I've got to… do… I have a thing… tomorrow, erm. Yeah. No."

"Oh. Okay."

Malfoy quickly walked out of the room and Harry watched him go longingly. How dense he was for kissing Malfoy like that! The other boy probably thought he was completely out of his mind, and he would probably lose him as a friend, and it would all just be terrible and wrong! Harry could take anything else Malfoy threw at him—punching, yelling, screaming. But not this. Not this awkward stay-away-from-me vibe Malfoy had going on right now. He had to fix this. But how?

When Harry snapped out of his thoughts, he found a room full of boys giving him sly looks. He turned back towards the mirror and pretended to attempt to toy with his mop of hair. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Seamus and Justin exchanging knowing looks, while Scott snickered quietly to himself. After a few more moments of awkward silence, he turned towards them with a frown. "What are you all staring at?" he demanded.

Scott stifled a giggle. "Nothing, nothing." Harry gave him a suspicious look before turning back towards the sinks. Then he heard Scott add "you dirty boy" in a hushed tone.

Harry whirled around. "_Excuse me_?"

It was Seamus this time who was trying not to laugh. "You're just so innocent, mate."

Harry was still confused, and now he was getting irritated. "How am I innocent?"

Scott couldn't hold his amusement in any longer. He burst out laughing and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder to keep himself from keeling over. Harry stared at him while he laughed hysterically for a few more minutes before he stood up straight, wiping the tears from his eyes. "You honestly don't know what it is you said that was so hilarious! Fuck. You are pure comedy."

"What the hell is so funny?" Harry yelled, flicking the other boy's forehead with his finger in annoyance.

Seamus grinned. "_We can do it in my bed, if you want to come_," he said, mimicking Harry's voice and words. His voice dropped a couple octaves and he wiggled his eyebrows in a seductive manner. "_I've got my flashlight and everything_." Scott burst out laughing again and Justin put a hand on Harry's arm comfortingly, even though he was biting his lip to keep from laughing as well. "What would you need a flashlight for? Is that some kind of perverted kink you have?" Seamus asked, giving Harry an approving look. "If so, give me the details. How would that work?"

Harry backed up from them in horror, realizing his mistake. Apparently he hadn't whispered quietly enough, because the whole damn room heard what he'd said. And what he said sounded _so_ dirty! Oh Merlin, did Malfoy think he was coming on to him? Shit. Shit shit shit! Why did these things always happen to him? "Shut up! Did it really sound that bad? Fucking hell! I'm such an idiot!"

Justin squeezed his arm. "It wasn't that obvious, mate. But I think you kind of scared him off a bit."

Harry covered his face with his hands. "Gods. He probably hates me."

"Don't be so dramatic, Harry," Seamus remarked. "One little comment isn't going to send him running for the hills forever."

Harry bit his lip. "It wasn't just a comment."

All of the boys in the room suddenly sobered up and gave him their utmost attention. "What do you mean? What happened?" Scott questioned.

Harry blushed. "After our performance, I—" Harry tried to think of something that didn't make him sound like a total moron, but it was impossible. "I kissed him," he confessed quietly.

"What!" All three boys widened their eyes with excitement. "You kissed Malfoy! Are you serious? I knew you fancied him! I knew it!" Seamus shrieked.

"Shh!" Harry whispered, glancing around anxiously. "I don't want anybody to hear you! Besides, I don't know if I fancy him yet."

Scott snorted. "Really, how would it be possible for you not to? It's so on."

"No it's not! And now that he hates me, it's never going to be on. Gods, I'm an idiot."

"Stop saying you're an idiot," Justin said. "Go talk to him about it. You know Malfoy, how he gets into those moods. He's probably just confused."

"I don't know…"

"Go do it!" Scott urged.

'And when you do, make sure not to start snogging him until I arrive! With a camera!" Seamus added.

"Shut up," Harry grumbled. He walked out of the bathroom, thinking to himself. So maybe he did fancy Malfoy. But how the hell was he supposed to tell him that without freaking him out? He slinked off to bed without looking at anyone—not Seamus who was giving him suggestive looks, not Justin who was trying to contain his laughter, and certainly not Malfoy, who clearly didn't want to look at him either. He fell asleep thinking about forts, blondes, and kinks that involved flashlights.

**~x~**

Draco sighed in frustration as he finished reading the letter from his parents informing him that they were Apparating in to see him that very day. They weren't even asking his permission, they were just coming. His mother had stressed that they were just visiting to see him because the holidays were coming up, but Draco knew that she'd been going insane worrying about him being in another country by himself. He stuffed the letter into his bag and started to eat his plate of eggs in front of him. When he looked up to take a drink from his water bottle, Potter had already arrived at the table and had sat a few seats away from him. Draco could tell that the boy had purposefully avoided the empty chairs next to him. He sighed and went back to his eggs.

Draco had been completely caught off guard when Potter had kissed him at the game. It was so sudden and surprising and _wonderful_—but it had been a mistake. Potter had specifically said it was a mistake. If that hadn't been embarrassing enough, Draco had sputtered and mumbled his way through that conversation in the bathroom. He'd thought that he could just pretend everything was somewhat normal, up until the point when Potter had said something outrageously suggestive. He'd gotten all flustered and dumbstruck and ugh, it was all bad. Potter had probably figured out Draco's ridiculous attraction towards him and that was the reason why he was avoiding him like the plague.

He coughed uncomfortably and futilely tried to concentrate on his breakfast. But it was a lost cause, seeing as he couldn't stop himself from glancing over at the object of his affections every few seconds. Like right now, Potter was laughing at something Longbottom said. He had such a beautiful, jingling, delightful laugh. Draco could just imagine Potter looking at him like that with his lips curved up in a genuine smile, his green, green eyes sparkling in joy—the way he had looked right before he'd kissed Draco. Would he still look like that if he kissed him for real, with passion and emotion and aggression? How about the flush on his cheeks, would that still be there if they got a bit more intimate? Would his jet-black hair get all tousled and matted with sweat when he got down on his knees and—

"Hey, Draco!"

He snapped out of his fantasies when he saw Scott waving at him. "What?" he snapped, annoyed to be pulled out of his Potter fantasy early.

"Your name was called on the loudspeaker. You need to go to the office."

"Ooh, is Malfoy in trouble?" Finnigan teased.

"I'm going," Draco grumbled, getting up from his seat.

"You need an escort," Scott reminded. "It's technically school hours, so you can't go wandering around campus by yourself."

"What am I, a child? I can handle myself."

Scott shrugged. "School rules. I can take you if you want."

"No, I'll take him." Draco looked over as Potter stood up and nodded at him. "I mean, I'll go with him. He can handle himself, mind you." Draco bit back a smile as Potter held out a hand in a mock formal way. Even if he was uncomfortable with the fact that Draco fancied him, he was still his ever-charming self. "Shall we?"

Draco gave him his best disdainful look. "I suppose." He made a point to snub Potter's outstretched hand and started walking towards the exit, expecting the other boy to follow. Potter caught up with him when they got outside, and soon the only sound was the crunching of gravel beneath their feet as they walked. Draco felt as though the air around them was loaded with all the things that he was afraid to talk about with Potter. He held his breath and counted the moments until they reached their destination.

Right before they rounded the corner to the office building, Potter stopped him. All playfulness from earlier was gone. "I have to talk to you."

Draco's heartbeat sped up. He didn't feel like being rejected right now. Especially when he knew he was going to have to see his parents, who were surely the reason he was being called to the office. "Can't it wait, Potter? I wasn't called here to stand around and chat with you."

Potter shifted around nervously. He looked like he was going to be ill. "No, Malfoy, I—"

Draco didn't want to hear it. He slid away from Potter in one smooth motion, heading towards the office briskly. He opened the doors and entered the large room to find his parents sitting in the waiting area next to the counter. "Draco!" Narcissa squealed, jumping up from her chair and rushing over to him. "How lovely it is to meet you here!"

"Mother," Draco rolled his eyes, "Of course I'm here, I was summoned by your arrival."

Lucius got up as well and patted him on the back. "Good to see you, son."

"Father," Draco greeted back. He heard the office doors opening again and already knew from the loudness of the entrance that it was Potter.

"Malfoy—oh!" Potter stopped and stared at the family standing in front of him. "I didn't realize… I'll just be going now."

"Wait, Harry Potter? Oh! It is you! Come, come here!" Narcissa urged, motioning him to come over to them. Potter looked nervous, but walked over to them anyway. "I want to thank you for helping us out," she glanced over at the muggle receptionist and lowered her voice, "after the _you-know-what. _The Malfoy family is eternally grateful."

"Mooo-om," Draco protested, while Lucius grimaced. "Stop embarrassing us!"

Potter looked a bit mortified himself. "You've already thanked me, ma'am. But you're welcome again."

Narcissa clapped her hands. "I know! We'll take you two out to brunch before you head back to class, what do you say? That way, we won't have to wait until school gets out to catch up!"

Potter looked uneasy at that. "Malfoy's excused from class, but I'm not. So I should be going back—"

"Nonsense. We can excuse you as well. Just say you're another son of ours."

Lucius and Draco both cringed at that. _Why me? She's so embarrassing!_ Draco thought miserably.

"Well… okay."

"Then it's settled! Come on, boys. Show us the nicest restaurant in town!"

Draco caught Potter's gaze and rolled his eyes, trying to show him that he had no idea why his mother was acting like that. Potter shot him a tiny smile back, and Draco's heart fluttered like mad inside his chest. He looked away quickly before Potter could see his goofy grin.

They arrived at a small but ritzy café that Draco had taken a liking to and sat down in a booth, his parents across from him and Potter. After they'd ordered, Narcissa leaned forward and smiled at them. "So, what have you two been up to for the past couple of months? Is school going well? I understand from Draco's letters that you're roommates."

Potter nodded. "That's right," he glanced over at Draco, "and school's been excellent, especially for him. He's truly a genius at everything he does."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm only a genius compared to you," he muttered.

Potter grinned a little. "He's also been doing choir for a while now. Quite a fantastic voice on that one, I tell you."

Narcissa looked overjoyed. "Oh! That's wonderful, Draco! What is choir, exactly?"

Draco sighed. "It's singing."

"_Singing_?" Lucius looked mildly disgusted. "What kind of sick—ow!" There was a thump underneath the table and he winced. And Draco noticed that Narcissa looked far too innocent right next to him. "I mean, that's great, son. Really great."

"What about you, Harry Potter?" Narcissa asked. "What have you been doing?"

Potter shrugged. "This and that. Nothing special, really."

Draco shook his head. Sometimes the modesty thing was too much for Draco to handle. "He's the star of his sports team, Mother. It's a muggle game called soccer, and he's really quite brilliant. Maybe you can watch one of his practices while you're here. Also, he's done a bit of choir with me."

Draco smirked a little when he saw Potter blush while Narcissa showered him with praise. They chatted about their studies for a while, and Draco began to relax in his seat. Maybe this wouldn't be as awkward and horrible as he thought it would be. His mother and Potter seemed to be getting along all right, and Lucius hadn't said anything nasty for the duration of the conversation. But after about 20 minutes and still no food, Lucius was getting impatient. He glared at everyone that passed by their table. "Why the hell haven't we gotten our food yet?" he growled, at no one in particular. "I want to speak to the manager! My lawyer will hear about this!"

He got up and stomped off towards the counter, and Narcissa frowned in worry. "Oh dear. He's gone off again. I'm going to go make sure he doesn't do anything that will get us into trouble." She stood up and hurried off after him. Then it was just Potter and Draco sitting in the booth, alone.

"I'm just going to go to the bathroom, if you'll excuse me," Draco said quickly, nudging at Potter to let him out of the seat. Of course, he didn't.

"I said I needed to talk to you, Malfoy."

"Right. But my parents are here, so let's not."

"It'll only take a minute."

Draco glared at him. "It'll only take a _minute_? That's all I get? If you're going to sit here and reject me, it better be long and dramatic, damn it!"

Potter looked adorably confused. "What do you mean? Why would I reject you?"

"You're not? But I thought—"

Potter eyes widened in realization. He leaned in and smiled a bit, interrupting him. "I guess you thought wrong," he murmured.

Draco gulped as Potter got closer. Oh gods, what did that predatory look in his eye? Was he going to punch him? "What are you doing?"

"What feels right," Potter replied, his lips brushing Draco's cheek ever so softly as he spoke.

Draco shuddered in surprise at the sound of his name and the feel of Potter's lips. "Okay," he breathed.

Potter's mouth curved up in a small smile. "Good."

And suddenly Potter's lips were on his again, but this time there was no way in hell Draco was pulling back. Because his lips were persistent, passionate, filled with aggression—just the way Draco had imagined it. He tasted sweet, like sugar and berries and cream and all of his favorite things combined. Draco's heart fluttered as Potter's arm slithered around his waist and pulled him closer, and he opened his mouth wider to give him more access. Gods, he was brilliant. The way his soft lips moved against his with urgency and gentleness at the same time was completely and utterly Potter. And all Draco could think was _why the fuck didn't I do this 8 years ago?_

"Draco," Potter whispered, pulling back to nibble lightly at his ear. "I fancy you."

Draco responded by leaning forward and pressing his lips to Potter's again, wanting to taste every bit of him and never stop. He would never stop kissing Potter, he would never _ever_—

"WHAT THE HELL?"

And then Draco jumped back from the other boy at the sound of his father's furious voice.

**Author's Note: HAHAH. Okay. So I don't know, here's some more dramatics for you. You know you'd be bored without them. Until next time! **


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Hi! So, what did you think of Lucius and Narcissa? You'll probably see more of them in the next few chapters, since they're staying for a while… I quite like them myself. **

Chapter 10

"WILL SOMEBODY PLEASE EXPLAIN WHY THE FUCK MY SON IS SNOGGING THE BLOODY SAVIOUR OF THE WIZARDING WORLD?" Lucius yelled. Everybody in the restaurant was staring at them in shock and confusion. They were probably wondering why some strange blonde-haired man in a dress and cape was screaming supposed nonsense in the normally serene café.

"Lucius! What in the name of Merlin are you shrieking about?" Narcissa asked, appearing out of nowhere and grabbing onto her husband's arm, which was shaking with fury. Harry bit his lip nervously as she looked upon them in bafflement and suspicion.

"Draco!" Lucius pointed accusingly at his son, "and _that BOY!_" then at Harry. He looked too disgusted to continue.

Narcissa glanced around, seemingly just noticing the crowd of people watching them in the restaurant. She threw some American muggle money on the table and pulled Lucius towards the door, motioning at Harry and Malfoy to follow her out. Once they were outside and a safe distance away from society, she turned on Lucius again, who was still glaring furiously at Harry. "Now what is the problem?" She asked impatiently.

"Them! They were snogging! In public!" Lucius exclaimed.

Narcissa's blue eyes widened as she looked at Harry and Malfoy. "Is that true, Draco?"

Harry glanced over at Malfoy, who seemed entirely embarrassed and lost for words. He cleared his throat and summoned all of his Gryffindor courage within him. "I kissed _him_, Mrs. Malfoy. It wasn't his fault at all."

Narcissa peered at him skeptically. "But he was kissing back, was he not?"

Harry paused and started to shake his head 'no', but the younger Malfoy seemed to regain his ability to speak. "Yes, I was." He turned to Lucius. "What can you do about it, anyways?"

Lucius looked appalled. His grey eyes, identical to Draco's, narrowed considerably. "How dare you speak to me that way!_ I_ am your father!"

"_You_ sent me to America! I can do whatever I want here!"

Lucius raised his cane threateningly. "Why you little—"

"Lucius," Narcissa warned, and the older man backed off, his eyes flashing. "Certainly you won't tolerate this… this atrocity! Because I will not allow it," he said, his cold gaze fixed steadily on Harry. Harry gulped and felt his blood turn to ice under his stare.

"You know that I stand by your decisions," Narcissa said simply, her face devoid of emotion.

"But Mother—" Malfoy started to protest.

"No," Harry interrupted, nodding at Narcissa, "she's right. They're your parents, Malfoy. And what they say, goes."

Malfoy looked enraged. "You listen to me, Harry Potter! There is _no fucking way_ that I am letting you go now after all the _shit _I've been through these past few months, are we _clear_? And _you_," he turned to his father, who was watching him with a mixed expression of shock and esteem. "I will snog any damn Boy-Who-Lived whenever and wherever I please, and you can't do a fucking thing about it!"

Harry winced as Malfoy stopped his tirade. The silence hung uncomfortable and tense in the air as the elder Malfoys stared at their son. "Draco!" Narcissa exclaimed after a while, her delicate features suddenly very stern. "Out of all the vulgar, _dis_respectful—"

"Amazing," Lucius interjected, his eyes shining with pride, "after all these years of tireless training, you have finally acquired a backbone! Well done, son." Harry stopped cringing and gaped at Lucius in bewilderment, along with the remaining Malfoys. What the hell was going on? One minute everybody was shouting at each other, and now Lucius was beaming at his son as if he'd won the Quidditch cup. He shook his head in complete disbelief. What was wrong with this family?

"Thank you, Father," Malfoy said finally, in an arrogant 'Ha-I'm-Right' manner. He grabbed Harry's hand brazenly, and Harry immediately glanced over at Lucius. He looked pissed again. "I don't care what you say. I fancy him, and he fancies me."

"Fine," Narcissa complied, looking at her husband for approval. "I guess we'll have to compromise then."

"Didn't you just hear what I said? I get what I—"

"Silence," Lucius said, raising his cane up to quiet his family. "I give you my consent. But," he glared at Harry, "I will not have you gallivanting around in public together. You must keep your relationship a secret."

Harry frowned. "How will you know if we don't?"

Lucius smirked. "Trust me, I have my sources," he responded. Harry shivered. He really didn't want to know what that meant.

"And if I don't?" Malfoy asked.

Lucius's gaze hardened. "I will bring you home straight away and you will take whatever punishment I give you."

Harry spoke up, not wanting Malfoy to say anything stupid that would ruin their chances of being together. "Okay, he agrees," he said quickly. Fortunately, Malfoy did not argue.

Lucius smiled satisfactorily. "Good. Now, let's go, Narcissa. I'm tired."

Narcissa glanced over at Malfoy. "Our hotel is a couple miles off campus if you need us," she offered.

Malfoy sighed. "All right, Mother." He started walking away, so Harry followed. They walked all the way back to their dorm without a word of exchange. It was already lunchtime and the students would be mulling around now, so when they arrived Malfoy shut the door and checked if anyone was around and, finding nobody, pulled Harry onto the couches. "Now, where were we?" he asked, leaning in.

Harry smiled and shook his head. "I think it's time to discuss what we're doing," he said.

Malfoy sighed and sat back. "If I had known before that you were such a girl, I wouldn't have bothered in the first place," he complained.

Harry shoved him. "Shut up. Do you really want to be with me?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "What did you think my parents and I were arguing about, the color of the sky? Honestly."

"Shut up," Harry muttered again. "I just want to know. Do you want it bad enough that you'll hide our relationship from your friends?"

"I hide a lot of things from my friends, Potter. It's not really a big deal at all. But is it for _you_?"

Harry bit his lip. He had a hard enough time keeping secrets from Ron and Hermione as it was. And Seamus and Justin lived with them, so it would be incredibly difficult hiding it from them. He hated that feeling of guilt gnawing at his conscience every time he tried being sneaky. But Harry looked at Malfoy, whose eyes were glittering challengingly as a tiny smirk formed on his lips. His breath caught and his heart flip-flopped a couple of times. He couldn't say no to that. "I can do it," he replied, finally.

Malfoy smiled. "Good." He leaned in and gently kissed him. "Because I _really_ want this, Harry," he whispered earnestly.

Harry felt as though his heart was going to explode out of his chest. _He said my name! Draco Malfoy said my name! _"Me too, Draco," Harry breathed, closing his eyes and leaning in for more. As soon as their lips touched, he heard the distinct sound of the door opening. In a split second, Draco pushed him away frantically and rolled off the couch and onto the ground, hidden from view to whoever it was that just entered the room.

Harry turned to see who it was, trying to appear casual. It was Seamus. "Hey mate," the Irish boy greeted him, not seeming to have noticed anything unusual. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, just sitting here," Harry answered. His eyes flickered down to Draco, who was still on the ground in front of him.

Seamus looked amused. "Just sitting here, by yourself, doing nothing? That's boring."

"Yeah, it is. Are you going out for lunch?"

"Nah, I did yesterday. Thought I might just hang out here. Do you mind?"

"Yes! I mean, no," Harry said quickly, receiving an odd look from the other boy.

"Are you okay, mate?" Seamus asked, coming closer to the couches.

"Yeah! I mean why wouldn't I be?" Harry responded, nudging Draco with his leg.

"I don't know," Seamus thankfully stopped walking over. He shook his head as if trying to clear it. "So did you talk with Malfoy?"

"What? Uh, no. I haven't. I probably won't, either. I think we're better off friends, I just realized that he's not really my type." Harry felt a hard pinch on his leg and tried not to wince. Well, he had to keep their cover, somehow!

"Oh, really? I think you're lying. Why won't you just admit you fancy him?"

"I'm not, honestly! He's just so difficult. I guess I just gave up." He felt Draco punch him, hard. Merlin, that hurt! He wanted to glare at him but couldn't without Seamus noticing.

"Uh, huh. Okay. Is this about Ron? Because I think he'd come around eventually."

"No, it's not him. I just really can't be with someone who's such a _huge prat_," he said loudly, trying to get back at the blonde boy for abusing his leg. Unfortunately, he just got another painful pinch for that. When they were alone again, he was really going to get it.

Seamus looked confused. "Really, Harry?"

"Yeah. Draco and I just aren't right for each other like that. I want to be just friends with him, that's all."

"Did you just call him Draco?"

"Huh?" _Damn it. Just play it off. _He tried to appear innocent. "I didn't say anything."

"But you just—"

"Whoa, look over there!"

"Harry."

"No, seriously, some girl's taking her top off—"

"_Harry!_"

"Gods, Seamus, just go out to lunch! PLEASE!"

"Fine," Seamus gave him a half-concerned, half-annoyed look. "But you're going to explain later."

"Okay. Whatever. Just go!"

When the Irish boy turned and finally left the room, Draco got up, laughing. "Merlin, you're awkward," he remarked with a smirk.

"Yeah, yeah. See the things I do for you?"

"Whatever, Golden Boy." Harry rolled his eyes, all ready to argue with him some more, when the blonde boy pulled him close and pecked him on the cheek sweetly. Harry forgot all about his irritation and awkwardness and lost himself.

**~x~**

Draco bit back a smile as Harry very subtly passed him their note during Calculus. They had been going back and forth for 20 minutes now, trying to outdo each other in short, cheesy proclamations of love. He had to admit that it was pretty fun, if not just a bit flattering. Really, they didn't need to pay attention. Merlin knows they wouldn't be anyway. He scanned the note eagerly.

_Draco, my love, I will die a thousand deaths before I stop loving you._

_Your snugglemuffin,_

_Harry_

He chuckled softly and quickly thought up a reply.

_Harry, not only do I love you passionately, you are my hero. There is not a day that I won't need you._

_Much love,_

_Draco_

He passed it back with a smirk, and received the response a couple minutes later.

_Draco, i__f I am your Superman, then you are my Kryptonite. (Muggle thing you don't know, I'll show you later)_

_Forever yours, _

_Harry_

Draco couldn't help but giggle. Though he didn't understand it, it was still quite endearing. He glanced over at the green-eyed boy and felt his lips curve up into a grin when he noticed Harry yawn and try to cover it up by pretending to sneeze. Harry looked over at him and smiled sheepishly, as if caught in the act. Draco felt his butterflies in his stomach. _Gods, I am so into him. _He tapped his pencil against the desk, thinking. Even though these were just for fun and were completely ridiculous, they still had just a bit of truth in them. Draco honestly believed that one day, he and Harry would be able to say those things to each other and not have it be a joke.

He glanced down at the note. It would make him feel just a bit better if he could really let all of his true sentiments out, and this _was _the perfect opportunity to. And Harry would never have to know that Draco actually meant it. Well, not until it was appropriate to in their relationship, anyways. They were still fairly new at this. He jotted something down and was mulling over whether to pass it back to Harry or not, when the bell rang for class to end and he had to get up instead.

Scott appeared behind them and clapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, Draco and Harry! Whatcha got there?"

"Nothing," Draco replied snappily, snatching the note off his desk. He tried to stuff it into his bag before the other boy could take it, but Scott was too quick for him.

"What's this? Love notes!"

"Give it back!"

Scott ignored him and began to read Draco's latest addition out loud. "_Harry, I can't wait for you to show me who Superman is and what Kryptonite does to him. I can't wait to see the way you light up when you receive this note back. I can't wait to build forts with you tonight, I can't wait to kiss and kiss you and never stop. And I absolutely cannot WAIT to fall in love with you—_AWWWW, DRACO!"

Instantly, people began to respond to it. "Ohh! That's so sweet, Malfoy!"

"So when's the wedding, guys?"

"How adorable!"

"Whooooo, Harry and Malfoy! Why didn't you tell me you were in lo-o-oove?"

"I SHIP IT."

Draco gasped. That wasn't supposed to be read out loud! Gods, he wasn't even sure he wanted Harry to hear it, let alone the entire class! "All of you stop it! It was a joke, okay?"

"Whatever you say, Draco!" Scott laughed as gave it back to him. "But if that was real, that'd be cool too, you know."

"It's _not_," Draco growled.

Scott raised his hands in defense. "Okay, all I'm saying is that it would be."

Draco watched him and everybody else leave the classroom, and then looked at Harry. He had been hoping that maybe Harry hadn't heard what he'd written, but by the unreadable look on his face, that was improbable. He decided to play dumb, just in case. "What?"

"You can't wait to fall in love with me?"

Draco felt his cheeks burn. "We were only kidding around," he replied cautiously. Harry didn't say anything. He moved closer, with that same mystery expression on his face. Draco backed up a little. "What are you doing?"

"What feels right." Draco's breath caught at those words, the same words spoken between them only hours ago. Harry moved in and wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling his ear. "And just so you know, I can't wait to fall in love with you, too."

Draco pulled back and looked at him for a moment. They were in a public classroom, and the teacher could come back in any minute, not to mention the next class. They could be caught guilty, with no explanation or excuse. But Merlin, Harry was so beautiful. With those incredible emerald eyes and that sweet, perfect smile, Draco could feel his heart almost literally melting inside. And just like that, he gave into temptation and kissed him. With all the uncertainty and surprises that they had gone through with every other romantic encounter they had had, he realized that he hadn't kissed Harry this way before. As in_ really_ kiss him—no distractions, no parents, no setbacks. Just the two of them.

He moved slowly, trying to feel and just take in everything that was Harry. Feel the softness of his lips, the gentleness of his touch, the sensitivity of his actions. The way his mouth felt against Draco's was just_ right_, there was nothing else that could explain it. It was perfect. It was his.

Draco vaguely heard the doorknob to the room turn, but he didn't care. Anybody could come in at this moment and it wouldn't matter. Because nobody could ruin this. Nobody but—

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL?"

Fucking Ron Weasley.

**Author's Note: And there you have it, another stupid cliffhanger where somebody sees them making out. I'm an annoyingly evil person, but how else am I supposed to get your attention? ;) So get ready for the typical Ron Weasley storm, guys! **

**Also I love the concept of Draco saying Harry's name first and his little note. Draco's just a big softie on the inside. Heh. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: I don't know where this is going, to be honest. I've just been pulling this out of my ass for the past couple of chapters… so if anyone wants to suggest any ways you want to see this end, feel free to tell me! I don't want to give this up now…**

Chapter 11

Ron's bugged out of his head. "What the _fuck_ are you doing, Harry?"

"I…I…" Harry didn't know what to say. He glanced at Draco for help desperately, but the other boy looked just as shocked as he felt. He turned back to Ron. "Draco and I—"

"Oh, so it's Draco now?" Ron spat, his lips curling in distaste as he said it.

"Ron, I can explain—"

"I don't want to hear it." Ron looked at Harry, then at Draco, then back at Harry again. Shaking his head, he turned around and ran out of the room.

"Ron! Wait!" Harry yelled after him, but the redhead didn't come back. Harry kicked a nearby desk, causing it to tip over and fall with a loud clang. "Shit," he muttered. Ron probably hated him now. If it weren't for snogging Malfoy, it would be for not telling him about it. But how could he have? This surely would've happened one time or another. He sighed and covered his face with his hands. What had he done?

He felt Draco put a cautious hand on his shoulder. "Harry? Are you okay?"

"No."

"I'm sure he'll get over it."

Harry looked up at Draco, whose expression was one of pure concern, and sighed. "I don't know. He looked pretty angry."

Draco looked pensive for a moment. He took Harry's hand and squeezed it. "Are you sure it's not because he's homophobic?"

Harry glanced at him sharply. "No. Of course not. Ron's not like that at all."

"I don't know, I'm just saying he could be—"

"No, no, I would know if he was homophobic. He's not."

"Maybe it's something you didn't know about him."

Harry yanked his hand away. "You think I don't know my own friend?"

Draco looked defensive. "Well, some friend he is if he can't accept something that makes you happy!"

"That's not it! It's _you_! He hates you!"

Draco took a deep breath, obviously trying to control himself from saying something nasty. Harry wished he would. He was in a fighting kind of mood right now, and he could really use some of that old fire he used to get with Draco. "Look, Harry. I'm not trying to tell you that you don't know him. It's just, these things happen. And I'm sure you'll get through it. I hate to admit it, but what you have with him is, well, it's really something, isn't it? Not much could ruin that."

Harry sighed. Damn him for being reasonable when all Harry wanted was a good old-fashioned fight. "I guess you're right."

"Aren't I always?" Harry rolled his eyes and started to walk out. He could have this argument later. All he really needed right now was to brood by himself and desperately try not to think about it.

**~x~**

Harry picked at the food on his plate and stared moodily out the window. He was meeting Hermione at his favorite little bistro for dinner, but it didn't help cheer him up. Ron hadn't spoken to him in 3 days. Whenever Harry tried, the other boy would avoid him or just give him this total death glare. Harry sighed. And things weren't faring much better with Draco, either. Ever since the incident with Ron, Harry had been in a terrible mood and everybody knew it, and stayed away from him as much as possible. But not Draco. For some reason, it just seemed like the blonde would just pick fights with him all the time. Whether it was about school or homework or soccer practice or just anything, he would lecture Harry or complain loudly. Just to be difficult. And Harry couldn't take it anymore. He just needed to get away from him.

Hermione appeared, slipping into the seat across from him. "Sorry I'm late. I had some extra assignments to take care of."

Harry gave her a little half smile. "S'okay."

"Is it?" She gave him one of her knowing looks. "You still haven't talked to him, have you?" Harry shook his head, and she sighed. "He's just being stubborn, don't worry about it. It'll turn out okay."

Harry shrugged. He stared out the window again. "Things haven't been really good with Draco, either. Makes me wonder whether it was really worth it for all this shit."

Hermione made a 'tsk' noise. "What happened?"

"Well, it just hasn't been the same since the thing with Ron. I just can't relax, or be happy. I don't know."

She put a hand on his arm consolingly. "You won't be happy until you fix this, you know."

"I know."

"But this thing with Draco… you're fighting?"

He shook his head. "No. Yes. I don't know. It all started off when he said something about how maybe Ron was…" he looked down at the table. "You know. He didn't like gays."

Hermione nodded sympathetically. "And?"

"And I just… sorta snapped at him. Told him that I would've known if he was."

"Oh."

Harry sighed. "But I guess, you know, I was just afraid."

"Afraid?"

"Afraid he was right. That maybe he is. And that he'll hate me for it."

Hermione shook her head. "No. No, Ron could never hate you, Harry. He's just upset. Don't think like that. He'll get over this." They sat in silence for the rest of the meal, and Harry was grateful for it. Hermione might've nagged a lot, but she always knew how to comfort someone. Even if it meant by not saying anything. They paid for their meals, and Harry offered to walk her back to her dorm. He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her near. Partially because it was bloody freezing out as it was the middle of winter, and partially to have the feeling of somebody close.

When they reached her dorm, Harry grinned and opened the door for her. "Thanks for tonight. I really needed it."

She smiled back. "No problem, Harry."

Just as he was about to turn around and go back to his own room, he caught a glimpse of red hair rounding the corner from the bathroom. The owner stopped in his tracks and noticed him at the same time. "Ron," Harry greeted. Ron nodded back stiffly, trying to maneuver around him to get back into the dorm room. Harry didn't let him. "We need to talk."

The other boy glared at him. "There's nothing to talk about," he responded. His normally cheerful baby blues were like daggers of ice now.

"Ron, try to be reasonable here—"

"Reasonable? Try acting reasonable after you catch your best friend snogging your worst enemy!"

Hermione tried to step between them. "Boys—"

"Stay out of this!" Ron growled, glaring around her at Harry.

Harry shook her head at her, too. "This isn't your fight, Hermione."

She pushed at both of their chests, a desperate look in her eye. "Yes, it is! You two are best friends! _We_ are best friends. Please try to remember that," she begged.

Ron scoffed. "Friends tell friends things! Did he tell you anything, Hermione, hm? Go on. Tell him how much it hurt you that he didn't confide in you about any of this! Tell him how that made you feel! Because it made _me_ feel like shit!"

Harry gaped at his two friends, who were both facing him with matching expressions of distress. They'd both felt like that? Guilt gnawed at him viciously as he realized that no, he hadn't been there for his friends at all this year. He looked between the two of them and felt a sadness run through him. When had their friendship become like this, when two would hide secrets from the other and one would keep secrets from them all? They hadn't always been this way. These were his best friends since first year. The friends who braved basilisks and trolls and giant spiders and Death Eaters and Dark Wizards for him. They'd risked their lives for him, because they loved him and he loved them back. It had always been the three of them and it would always be. Wouldn't it?

"Guys," he whispered, "I'm sorry. I never wanted it be—I'm just… I'm sorry." Hermione didn't say anything, but put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. Harry looked up at her and then at Ron, who was still giving him this broken look. "Ron… I wanted to tell you. Both of you. But I was afraid that you'd hate me for it. I mean, we're already growing apart. Look at us."

The anger left Ron's face and he sighed resignedly. "No. No, we're not. We're not growing apart, okay? Look, I'm sorry that I've been acting this way. But I don't like Malfoy, you know I don't. You can't just expect me to be all happy for you right away."

"I don't. And it's not really that I was afraid of. I was just…" he bit his lip and looked at him. "I thought you'd hate me because I was gay."

Ron's eyes widened with disbelief. "What? No. Harry. No. Of all the ridiculous reasons…" he put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I could never hate you, Harry. Especially not for something you can't control."

Harry let out a sigh of relief. He glanced at his friends tentatively. "So, are we okay?"

Hermione smiled and looked at Ron, who nodded. "Yeah. We'll be okay." Harry grinned and pulled both of them in for a group hug. Ron ended the hug after a couple minutes with an uncharacteristically stern look at him. "Just promise us that you'll talk to us from now on."

Harry nodded obediently. "Yes. No more secrets." Ron grinned back, and Harry couldn't help it. He hugged them again, and didn't let go for a long time.

**~x~**

Draco paced back and forth in the dorm, watching Blaise do his homework on the couch. He bit his lip nervously. Where had Harry been for the past couple of hours? He hadn't bothered to tell Draco where he was going. Granted, they did have separate lives, but still, it was nice to know. Harry had been much too distant lately. He checked his muggle watch and huffed impatiently. The noise made Blaise look up from his work. "You know, I can leave if you want. I can do my homework in my own room."

Draco gritted his teeth. "I don't want to be alone. I'll go crazy alone."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and this is much better. Is something bothering you?" Draco sighed and sat down in the seat next to him, nodding. Blaise frowned. "Is it about him?" Draco shrugged. Okay, so he'd broken the 'no telling friends' rule by telling Blaise. But what harm could it do, anyway? He needed _somebody_ to rant to at times like this.

Blaise put down his pen and turned to him. "Okay, what is it?"

"He's been distant."

Blaise snorted. "You've only been together for like, a week. Isn't it too soon for you to get all crabby about that?"

"I don't mean it in like a relationship-y sort of way. I mean, distant. Like he won't even talk to me."

"Well, how are you reacting to it?"

Draco sighed. "Not very well. I probably get on his nerves."

"That's probably why he's avoiding you then."

"He's not avoiding me!"

"Well."

Draco huffed again and turned away from him, and Blaise chuckled and went back to his work. They sat there in silence for a couple of minutes before the door opened. Draco looked up eagerly, but it was just Finnigan. He sat back and pouted. "Ugh, it's just _him!_"

Finnigan raised his eyebrows and placed a hand on his heart in mock joy. "Well, it's lovely to see you too, Malfoy!"

Draco rolled his eyes, not feeling like kidding around right now. "Thought you were Ha—I mean, Potter."

Finnigan gave him a look. "Waiting up for your boyfriend, are you?"

Draco's head snapped up and he glared at him. "What? No! He's not my boyfriend!" he exclaimed, maybe a bit too defensively.

Finnigan held his hands up. "I was joking, Malfoy. Calm yourself."

Oh right. He doesn't know. Heh. Just shrug it off. "Yeah, I was kidding too. Ha, ha," he said weakly. Blaise snorted.

Finnigan grinned. "Besides, Harry's right behind me."

Draco lit up. "Harry? I mean, Potter!" He jumped up as the green-eyed boy arrived with Finch Fletchley, Scott and a few other boys trailing behind him at the doorway. And, he was smiling. Well, that was a surprise. He hadn't seen Harry smile that genuinely since the incident. He and the Weasel must've made up. The idea made Draco giddy with excitement. That means Happy Harry, which means Delighted Draco! He shook his head at his silly thoughts. _I'm so glad nobody can read my mind._

Harry walked up to him and patted him on the shoulder. "Hey, Malfoy," he said, his eyes twinkling.

Draco couldn't help but throw his arms around him. "Where have you been?"

Harry laughed, squeezing him back. Draco loved the sound of his laugh. He hugged him tighter. "Just out with Ron and Hermione," he answered.

So he had made up with them! "Brilliant! I'm glad you're hanging out with them now," Draco declared.

"He always hangs out with them," Finnigan commented from across the room. Draco looked at him. Oh right, other people were in the room. And they didn't know about his and Harry's relationship, so therefore they didn't know that Harry hadn't been speaking to Weasley. Sometimes he had to remind himself. He let go of Harry and smoothed out his clothes.

"All right, we're going to bed now," Draco announced, pulling Harry towards his bunk.

Blaise waggled his eyebrows. "We?"

Draco smirked at him. "I mean, we're going to retreat into our fort now and do things that are none of your concern," he corrected.

"Sexual things," Harry added with a laugh.

Scott grinned. "Oh, can we watch?"

Draco just winked and waved at the other boys as he pulled the blankets over his and Harry's head. Harry pulled out his wand and fastened it with a quick tap to the edges of the bed. Then he took the flashlight out from under Draco's pillow and turned it on. Draco did a quick Silencing charm before grabbing the back of Harry's neck and pulling him in for a kiss. He felt the other boy's mouth curve up into a smile as they kissed. Gently, he pulled back and gave him a look. "If only they knew that we were telling the truth," he remarked, jerking his thumb outwards, where the other boys were surely still hanging out.

Harry laughed. "I said sexual things," he said, running his finger down Draco's arm in suggestion.

"Maybe we should make that true, then," Draco murmured. Harry just smiled at him again and he felt warmth in his chest. "So everything's all better now?" He hoped that his question conveyed his concern for the safety of their relationship as well as the situation with Harry's friends.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Talked it out with Ron and Hermione. Ron… he's okay, I think. He just needs time."

"That makes sense."

"I'm going to be spending more time with them. Is that okay?"

Draco hesitated. He already had enough nerves for one night, waiting for Harry to come back. He didn't like not having the other boy all to himself. He sighed and looked up into Harry's earnest face. But he couldn't disappoint that. If it made him happy, Draco would just deal with his stupid nerves. Besides, he was just being clingy. He forced a smile on his face. "Of course it is." He pushed Harry gently, making the boy lean back until his mop of hair hit Draco's pillow. Harry gazed up at him as he brushed back the hair from his forehead to reveal that famous lightning shaped scar. Draco leaned in and lightly kissed it.

Harry grimaced and pushed him away a bit. "Don't do that."

Draco tilted his head. "And why not?"

"My scar is ugly. I hate it."

Draco lay back and snaked his arm around Harry's waist. And before the other boy could protest, planted another kiss on his scar. "Well, I love it."

"Why?"

"Well, because I fancy you. Not just part of you. You." He feathered several little kisses all over his face between words. "Every—_kiss_—little—_kiss_—thing—_kiss_—about—_kiss_—you."

Harry stared at him for a moment. Then he shook his head and laughed. "Stone cold bastard my arse," he quipped, before lunging forward and showering his own attack of kisses all over Draco's face.

**Author's Note: Yeah, I'm sorry, I don't think I tried as hard as I should have on this. Not very satisfied with it, but I'm going to post it anyway for lack of a better idea. Love you guys for taking the time to read, even if I don't know what the hell I'm doing. xoxo**


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: Your reviews are the only reason I'm still going with this, so thank you! **

Chapter 12

Draco lounged on a bench overlooking the soccer field, watching Harry practice for his upcoming game. The sun was peeking out from behind the grey clouds, and it was a surprisingly warm day for the middle of winter. He sat back and smiled to himself as Harry made yet another goal. He really was good, and it was just the sort of thing that the boy would excel at. Draco knew that Harry truly missed playing Quidditch, but it was clear that soccer had become a satisfying alternative. Harry turned to look at him, and Draco gave him a quick thumbs-up. The other boy beamed and shot him a heart staggeringly sweet smile before turning his attention back to the game. Draco smiled a bit and allowed himself to feel the effects of the butterflies fluttering rapidly in his stomach for a moment before schooling his expression into one of cool disinterest. He shifted his arm to rest on top of the bench, wincing a little as he did. Ouch.

The previous night had been rough. He'd reluctantly agreed to join Harry and his friends for dinner, because the boy had hoped that maybe he could get everybody to be civil with one another. But Merlin was he wrong. Draco and Weasley had immediately jumped at each other's throats the minute they sat down and every few minutes after that. It had been completely awful. The most degrading element was that Harry and Granger had to pull them apart at least ten times throughout the meal. And unfortunately for Draco, it was Granger that had been sitting next to him, so therefore she was the one yanking him away from Weasley every time they got into a tiff. And for some reason, the girl actually cared about the redheaded git and wasn't too happy with Draco for lunging at him multiple times. He rubbed his arm again absently. That was probably why it hurt so much. Draco then noticed that the slight warmth of the sun had disappeared from his face and looked up to find a shadow looming over him. He sighed. "Hi, Pansy."

"Hello," the girl chirped back, coming around the bench to sit next to him. "What are you doing here?" She glanced over at the soccer field where Harry was playing. "Watching Potter?"

Draco nodded and looked over at Harry as well. "Yeah. He's gotten better," he observed. The green-eyed boy glanced over at Draco again to make sure that he was still there and seeing that he was, waved happily at him with a large grin. Draco couldn't stop himself from smiling and waving back.

Pansy raised an eyebrow. "Do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"Look at him like that."

Draco's eyes snapped away from Harry back to her. "Huh? I don't look at him in any certain way."

She smirked. "Yes you do. You're like this." Her lips stretched into a nauseatingly besotted smile and her hopeful eyes glistened in a way that scarily resembled a swooning Harry Potter fangirl. She perfected the look with a girly, overdramatic sigh.

Draco frowned and looked away. "I do _not_ do that," he mumbled.

"Sure you don't. Anyways," she took something out of her pocket and handed it to him. "Look."

He glanced at her and then down at the item in his hand, which was a crumpled up flyer. Why on earth would she give him this? He smoothed it out carefully and scanned it. "A dance?"

She nodded. "Yep, this weekend. The school is hosting it down at the country club a couple miles away. I've got to tell you, I didn't like the idea of a muggle school at first, but Redmond's_ loaded_. This is just a winter dance, but I heard it cost a fortune. Makes me feel quite impatient for prom."

Draco looked at her sharply. "Prom?"

"Yes, prom."

"What's that?"

She made an exasperated noise and put a hand on his sore arm. He tried not to grimace. "It's only the most important dance of our muggle school lives. Only seniors get to go. It's some big thing, I don't know, this girl Claudia told me about it and it seems like a blast."

"Oh." Draco looked back over towards the soccer field at Harry, who was laughing and exchanging high-fives with some of his teammates. What would Harry think of the dances? He wondered if they would ever get to go to one together. Probably not. Besides, his parents were still in town and they had to be extra cautious.

"Yeah, 'oh' is right," Pansy remarked, obviously a bit miffed that Draco wasn't getting excited about it. "But for the meantime, who are you going to ask to the winter dance?"

"What makes you think I'm going?"

Pansy snorted. "You'd never miss a function at Hogwarts. Why wouldn't you go to one here?"

Good point. Draco cleared his throat, trying to think of a legitimate reason of why he couldn't. "Because it's a muggle school," he offered lamely.

"Yeah, right. I know you love it here. Why don't you just ask your girlfriend?"

"My what?"

She threw her head back and laughed in a way that only she could pull off without looking like a maniac. "Your girlfriend, you prat. You always spend so much time going out to town or dinner, you avoid other girls in classes that are surely flirting with you, and you've constantly got this starry lovesick look in your eye. It's quite obvious you've fallen for someone."

Draco shook his head and looked away, trying to hide the blush that was creeping up his neck. How had she observed all that? Thankfully, she hadn't noticed that Harry was always around for everything that she mentioned. "I don't have a girlfriend, Pansy," he muttered.

"All right then. A boyfriend?"

"Why are you so keen on pestering me?" he snapped.

Pansy crossed her arms indignantly. "Why are_ you_ so keen on keeping secrets from me?" she countered. "I know you have someone. Your parents said so."

"My parents?"

"Yeah. I've visited them," she glanced at him and sighed. "Don't give me that look. I like your parents. They're nice."

"They're _nice_?"

"Well, maybe not… but to me they are so nothing else matters. Anyways, I saw them and they said that you were seeing someone."

Draco frowned. Why would they say that? Didn't they want him to hide his relationship with Harry? "Okay, but I don't know what they're on about," he replied truthfully.

She gave him an irritated look. "Fine, don't tell me. But you should consider bringing them to the dance. I'm going."

He tilted his head questioningly. "With who?"

"Justin Finch-Fletchley."

If Draco had been drinking something at that moment, he would have spit it out all over her. Instead he stared at her in astonishment. "Finch-Fletchley? Why?"

She shrugged. "He asked me."

Draco shook his head. Unbelievable. He didn't know the ex-Hufflepuff had a thing for Pansy, let alone had the guts to even attempt to ask her. Got to give him credit for that. "That's nice, I guess."

"Yeah. So come to the dance, all right?"

He looked over at Harry again, who was looking back at him and chewing his bottom lip in the most adorable way. "I'll think about it."

**~x~**

Draco pushed his mashed potatoes around his plate nervously, peeking up at Harry in a discreet manner as the boy ate his meal. They were eating out at a small diner a little ways from campus, and it was the first time they'd been alone all day. Draco had been planning ways to talk about the dance with Harry, but now that the time had arrived he just couldn't make himself to do it. He honestly didn't know how he should go about it. Should he just casually bring it up, or should he wait for Harry to say something? Maybe he should just blurt it out right now? Or just not say anything at all…? _Stop it. You're such a baby,_ he scolded himself silently. _Just do it! _"Are you okay? You've been quiet for a long time," Harry remarked, interrupting Draco's thoughts. His green eyes were studying him with concern.

Draco gulped. "Um, yeah. I'm fine. Just thinking."

"About what?"

"…Things."

Harry chuckled and nudged his foot under the table. "I get that you think about _things_, but what kind of things?"

Draco bit his lip. Well, it couldn't hurt to try, right? Besides, he shouldn't be so afraid of his own secret boyfriend. _Here goes, I guess_. "Actually, I was thinking about the dance on Saturday. The Winter dance."

The playful grin disappeared from Harry's face and was replaced with a frown. "Draco…" _Uh oh. Not a good sign._ The boy sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Do you really want to go to that?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't know. It could be fun."

"But you know we couldn't go together."

Draco let his shoulders sag and he pouted visibly. Maybe he could guilt Harry into changing his mind. "But why not? It's just a dance," he whined.

"Your parents. We're supposed to be keeping this a secret, remember?"

"Yeah, but they told Pansy that I was seeing someone."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "What? Why?"

"I don't know. Maybe it slipped out or something. Besides, they don't have to know."

"But your father said—"

"Yeah I know what he said," Draco replied irritably, "and I don't care."

"Still, I don't want to risk losing you." Harry glanced around quickly before placing his hand over Draco's on the tabletop. Draco's heart fluttered again.

"Fine, we can both say we're going alone. And then hang out the whole night."

Harry shook his head. "Too suspicious. We already spend enough time together as it is, and we sleep in the same bed most of the time. I bet the other guys already know but just aren't saying anything."

"Well if they do, there's no use hiding it, is there?"

"Yes, there is. Come on. If you really want to go, just get a fake date or something. Pansy, maybe."

Draco sighed. "But I wanted to go with _you._"

"You know we can't," Harry answered softly, rubbing Draco's palm with his thumb.

Draco just looked at his lap. He knew he wasn't winning this round. Harry was right—it was too risky. But he was still going to sulk. "Pansy already has a date…" Draco mused aloud, causing the other boy to sigh in relief.

"Then ask somebody else. But make sure they know it's not for real," Harry warned.

Draco smirked a little at the way his eyes were narrowing slightly. He loved jealous Harry. "I don't know. Maybe I'll ask that girl from our chemistry class. What was her name? Annie?"

"Don't you dare! You know she fancies you!"

Draco pretended to consider it. "I don't know. She seems nice. And she's "gorgeous", don't you agree?"

"Ha, ha," Harry grumbled.

"What? You used to think so!"

"Yeah, when I was straight!" For some reason, the look on Harry's scrunched up face made Draco giggle. Then his giggle turned into a full-blown laugh, and soon he was actually slapping his knee in hilarity. When he finally calmed down and looked up again, Harry's frown had disappeared and he looked mildly annoyed, but mostly amused. "You're such a git," he said.

"I'm your git," Draco teased back.

Harry nodded solemnly. "You bet you are."

**~x~**

Harry entered the country club that Saturday, glancing around timidly at his surroundings. The school had rented out a large room for the occasion, and boy, had they gone all out. The ceiling was covered in sparkling little stars with an abundance of replica snowflakes hanging strategically from the walls. The entire floor was concealed in ivory fluff mixed with silvery-white glitter. There were tables in the back for sitting and tables lining the walls that served food of every sort. And the dance floor with the multi-coloured disco ball was in the center. Harry whistled in amazement. Even after months of living here, Redmond still continued to astonish him. Ginny appeared at his side, gazing around the room in approval as well. "Some party, eh?"

He shook his head. "I can't believe they can afford this."

"I know. It makes Hogwarts look like a load of shit," she commented.

Harry turned to her and smiled. He was glad that he had asked her to be his date. Although she was his ex, they were still friends and she was still great company. Besides, he felt comfortable with her, and she probably wouldn't mind if he spent most of his night talking with Draco. "Yeah. These muggles are doing it right."

"What are muggles?"

Harry turned around to find Scott and a couple of the other guys standing behind him. Waves of people were coming through the door now, so Harry gently pulled Ginny and himself out of the traffic. "Um, it's just a British term. For…people."

"That's cool, that's cool," Scott said. He glanced around. "Where's your boyfriend?"

Harry tried not to blush, but it clearly wasn't working because Scott was grinning knowingly at him. "Boyfriend? What are you talking about?"

"Draco, obviously! Where is he?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. Probably picking up his _date_," he said, trying to emphasize 'date' in order to get Scott to stop smiling like that. It didn't work. "I haven't seen him because I was picking up mine." He motioned towards Ginny. "Scott, this is Ginny."

"Hi there," Scott greeted cheerfully. She nodded back. "Well, have a good night, guys!" Scott turned and disappeared into the crowd by the food tables.

Ginny looked at him. "I'm going to go talk to Hermione, okay?"

Harry looked over and saw the brunette waving at them from across the room. Ron was standing next to her, looking entirely uncomfortable with the situation. He nodded. "Sure. I'm just going to get something to drink."

As soon as Ginny was out of sight, Harry scanned the room for the white-blonde head of hair. Not finding him, Harry sighed and headed for the drink table in the corner for real. Honestly, how was it possible to find anybody in this sea of people? He wondered absently if he could suffocate in here. He reached the table and was about to pour himself a glass of punch when a hand grabbed his arm and tugged him back. Surprised, he whipped around to find Draco standing there with his arms crossed, looking not too pleased. "Come with me," the boy whispered gruffly, turning on his heel and heading towards the sitting tables. Harry followed him to the slightly more secluded area in the very corner, where it was darker. Then Draco turned and looked at him again with that impatient expression. "What are you doing here with _her_?"

"Who? Ginny?"

Draco made an irritated noise. "No, Professor McGonagall. Yes, HER!"

Harry wondered how long Draco had been around to know that he'd come here with Ginny. But he wasn't about to question him about it, not wanting to further agitate the blonde. He sighed. "She's my fake date."

"Oh really? Does she know it's fake?"

"Of course she does! Calm down, what is your problem?"

"My _problem_ is that she is your ex-girlfriend! She could still have designs on you!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "What part of 'ex' do you not understand? She doesn't have any interest in me, all right? I asked her as a_ friend_."

"Well, I don't like it!"

"You're the one who wanted to go to this dance," Harry pointed out. "I didn't want to come in the first place. Besides, I'm not mad that _you_ brought a date." He paused, remembering that he hadn't seen Draco's date yet and looked around. "Where is she?"

Draco pursed his lips and stared at the ground. "I didn't bring one," he muttered. "I couldn't do it, it felt like betrayal." Then he looked up at Harry, his grey eyes flashing. "But apparently, you're completely fine with that!"

Harry sighed. "I'm not betraying you, Draco, it's one dance. And I plan on spending all my time with you."

"Well, don't. I'm leaving." The blonde turned sharply and began to walk away from him.

Harry shook his head. When had this become a soap opera? He shouldn't have to apologize for just doing what Draco had told him to do. Still, the nagging feeling of guilt prodded him persistently, and he sighed. "Draco, wait!" But Draco was already out the door. Harry kicked the chair next to him. Shit. Now he was going to have to apologize big time for both bringing a fake-date and for not going after him immediately. He was just about to run out the door in pursuit when somebody blocked his path. He looked up and it was the girl from chemistry class, Annie. She was just standing there looking expectant and smiling at him.

He tried not to sound agitated. "Hey, could you move? I'm trying to go that way," he said politely.

She tilted her head, with blasted smile still on her face. "Or you could dance with me."

He frowned. "Uh, no. I have to leave."

"Come on. Just one little dance, and I won't bother you again. Please?"

Harry looked up at her pleading expression and sighed. What was wrong with one dance? Draco was already mad enough as it was, a few more minutes couldn't hurt. "Fine. But then I have to go."

She giggled and took him by the hand, leading him towards the floor. "We'll see what you say afterwards." As she pulled him into the middle of the room, Harry vaguely saw Hermione's distinct hair nearby. The last upbeat song ended and a new slow one began. He looked around anxiously as he saw the couples beginning to pair up and hold each other close. Annie was wrapping her arms around his neck and he jerked away slightly, searching in vain for Hermione again. Maybe she could save him from this. Annie shook her head, her eyes twinkling playfully. "Nuh uh. You promised me a dance."

"But this is a slow song," he protested.

She pulled him closer, resting her head on his shoulder. Then she took his hands and placed them on her lower back for him. "Even better." Harry tensed up and tried to distance himself from her as much as possible, but her grip was like an octopus's. Finally, he gave up and just let her do the dancing. This was just his luck. Just when he needed to get out of somewhere fast, a slow song would play. Of course. He heard the last few notes of the melody coming to an end when she lifted her head again. "That was nice," she murmured, her face much too close to Harry's.

"Um, okay. I'm leaving now," he stammered clumsily, taking her shoulders and giving her a gentle push backwards. This was ridiculous, she was wasting his time. He should be chasing after Draco now.

"Wait, let me say thank you," she breathed, leaning in and pressing her lips to his briefly. "Thank you." Harry gaped at her, dumbfounded. What the fuck? Flustered and confused, he backed up a little more. He had a boyfriend. A possessive, magical boyfriend with a temper and a penchant for hexes. This was not happening. She pulled him back and kissed him again, obviously not taking the hint. Every time he tried to squirm away, she kissed him harder. Harry didn't want to push a girl, but he was getting desperate.

"Let me go!" He tried to yell, but it just came out sounding like _lsdfndn mfgn gfnd!_ Okay, that's it. He didn't care if she was a girl, this was so fucking wrong! Before he could elbow her in the ribs, a strong force pulled them apart with aggression. Harry stumbled back and fell, wiping his mouth and looking up at their attacker. Then he gasped.

It was Draco. The boy's fists were clenched tightly at his sides and his eyes flashed dangerously with pure rage. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, HARRY?" he roared, causing a bunch of couples to turn and look at them.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. Annie brushed herself off and jumped up, looking strangely delighted. "It's okay, Draco, don't be mad at him. I'm interested in _you!_ I saw you coming in and I wanted to make you a little jealous." She beamed, clearly very satisfied with herself. Harry stared at her in disbelief. Seriously? What kind of bloody idiot—

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, BITCH." Draco growled at her, his eyes still blazing so intensely that even she had the decency to shrink back.

Harry got up and grabbed his boyfriend's arm. "It's not what you think, I didn't—"

"Save it, Harry," Draco spat, his lip curling up in distaste as he yanked his arm away.

"But Draco, she doesn't even want—"

"I said, _save it_." He flinched at the biting tone and watched as Draco's anger melted into that arrogant Malfoy mask that he hated so much. Harry felt as if time were unraveling quickly back to their past, back to the years where that look of loathing used to be customary. Back to when he hadn't known that there was so much more behind that awful sneer. Back to when they had nothing. Harry searched Draco's eyes for some sort of relief in hopes that he was wrong, that they weren't nothing, but all he could see in those stormy grey orbs was pain and regret. And then, as if reading his mind, Draco spoke the three words that Harry had never thought he would hear again. "I hate you."

Draco turned on his heel and stalked out while Harry watched him leave, faintly aware that Hermione was attempting to pull him out of the room. He let her take him outside before he sank to the ground and dropped his head in his hands, Draco's last words still stuck on replay in his brain.

_I hate you._

**Author's Note: One word. **

**ANGST.**

**So my new philosophy is _when in doubt, angst it up_. Besides, you love it. Don't lie. **


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: Sorry for the long break guys! I really am though. I keep making excuses, and that's not cool. I'll try harder from now on! **

Chapter 13

Slam.

"Draco?"

More slams.

"What the_ hell_ are you doing?" Blaise frowned at Draco as he threw another one of Blaise's notebooks at the wall. "I swear to Merlin, if you don't fucking stop vandalising my things I am going to hex you into the next millennium! Now sit down and tell me why you are here at—" he checked his watch, "—one in the fucking morning!"

Draco rubbed his forehead and moved to kick the base of Blaise's bed, but the other boy's fierce warning glare stopped him. He sat down on a nearby chair instead. "Fucking Potter," he growled.

"Oh, so it's 'Potter' again? What did he do?"

"I caught him kissing this bitch at the dance. Gods," he shook his head. "I'm such an idiot. I thought he was my friend."

"Wait, a girl? He kissed a _girl?_"

"Yes, a girl."

Blaise raised his eyebrows. "I thought he was playing for the other team now but ah, wow…"

"Blaise!"

"Sorry, sorry," he put his hands up in defense from a clearly unstable Draco. "Really. Want me to hex Potter? Or the bitch?" His eyes lit up suddenly. "I could hex both!"

Draco shook his head. "No. No, I just want to forget about it. Okay?"

"You're going to forgive him?"

"Hell, no. I'm going to shun him like he's last season's pinstripe disaster. Really, why did anybody ever think that was fashionable?" Before Blaise could answer him, Draco heard a noise at the door of the dorm room and instinctively pulled his wand out of his sleeve in defense. He glanced over at Blaise, who gave him a look. Well, it was better that he'd be prepared. It was late and who knows what kind of wackjob would be coming in at this time of night. Though, he supposed, it could be Longbottom or the Slytherins. But Draco was in a bad mood. He could hex the living daylights out of just about anybody at this point.

And he almost did when Pansy popped her head in. But at the sight of Draco's wand held up threateningly towards her, she backed up and frowned. "Whoa, don't point that thing at me! Draco, I saw you scream at Potter and storm out. What's going on?"

"Potter's a lying, cheating son-of-a-bitch, that's what," Blaise remarked before Draco could say anything.

"Excuse me?"

Draco groaned and glared at Blaise, who bit his lip and grimaced apologetically at his slip-up. Oh, well, he should just tell Pansy. It wasn't like it really mattered anymore. "Potter was my boyfriend and he cheated on me," he murmured edgily.

She didn't ask questions, to his relief. Instead her eyes widened, and then narrowed dangerously. "That little bastard! I'm going to rip his—"

"No, don't." Draco sighed and faced his two friends, who both looked like they could kill. "I don't want you to start anything. People will notice that something's wrong and they'll jump to conclusions, and it'll all be bad. My parents are still here, you know." He turned to Pansy to explain. "They didn't want our relationship to go public, so if people find out that we were together in the first place, they'll send me back home. I don't want to risk my education here for a stupid arguement with my stupid ex-boyfriend. Okay?"

They both nodded reluctantly. "Well, fine," Pansy said, a small pout on her face. "But can we at least like, pull a nasty prank on him or something? Just because he's such a bumbling git."

Draco tried to hide his smile as his friends began chatting about evil tricks they could play on Har—er, Potter. Though they were sort of crazy, he loved them so much. Slytherins may not be known for compassion, but his Slytherins had the best way of showing theirs. He glanced out at the window towards the pitch-black sky and sighed. It really was late. "I've got to go back to the dorm. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

They turned to look at him with concerned expressions. "Are you going to be all right? He'll probably be in there," Pansy pointed out.

Draco took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah. I know how to handle him; I've been doing just fine for the past 8 years. It won't be any different."

"All right."

"Be careful."

Draco slipped out into the dark hallway quietly and shut the door behind him. He stood there for a few moments, trying to decide what he should do. He was sort of stretching the truth when he'd told his friends that he was completely ready to go back to his dorm, because they were right, _he'd _probably be there. And Draco wasn't ready to face him. Glancing around, he made a decision to head towards the bathrooms to freshen up. Maybe if he stalled long enough, Potter would go to sleep and he could sneak in without him noticing. It seemed like a reasonable enough plan. At least it did until he opened the door and found himself face to face with the one and only Harry Potter.

He gaped like a fish for approximately 1.5 seconds before turning on his heels and running out. He heard Potter yelling behind to him to stop, to wait, but Draco wouldn't give him that. He was halfway down the hall before Potter crashed over him and they were both on the ground, wriggling and out of breath. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Draco gasped, still struggling to free himself from Potter's massive body weight, unfortunately to no avail.

"Just hear me out, will you?" Potter responded through his teeth. His forehead was all scrunched up and glistening with exertion from holding Draco down. "I can explain myself!"

"All right so tell me, how do you—" _gasp _"—explain—" _kick _"—how her lips—" _bite_ "—were attached—" _another kick_ "—to yours like a fucking—" _jab _"—leech!" Potter had tears in his eyes from the abuse that Draco had given him. Tufts of black hair were sticking up from his head in such a ridiculous way that Draco was having a hard time not laughing at it. But he stood his ground—well, he lay on it—because he was supposed to be livid with the boy.

"I am trying to save this relationship," Potter finally responded, after a few moments of catching his breath. "I want us to be okay again!"

Draco kicked him in the shin, and he winced. "What relationship?" he snarled. "We have _nothing!_"

"No, you listen to me Draco Malfoy—"

"Ooh, make me, Potter!"

Potter had his hand twisted in Draco's shirt and Draco had his leg positioned threateningly under Potter's groin when they heard a door open nearby. Both of their heads snapped to the side to see the boys from Scott's dorm all staring at them with knowing little smiles. Scott tilted his head and winked. "Oh, by all means, don't let us stop you."

Draco rolled his eyes. Yes, their situation did look rather suggestive, as did all of their situations quite frankly, but he wasn't having any of that tonight. All he really wanted to do was punch Potter in the face and go to bed. Was that so hard to grant? He ignored them and turned back to Potter, his lips curling up into one of his particularly nasty scowls. "I swear to Merlin, Potter, I will fuck you up right here, right now. Get. Off. Of. Me."

Potter's face twisted into an expression that sort of made him feel sick with desire. Er, hatred. _Same thing._ The boy leaned in so close that Draco could see the contrast of light green flecks to that deep forest green that he liked so much flicker in his eyes. "Make me, Draco," he whispered, and there was something about him that was uncharacteristically Potter… something that Draco could not name. But it was eerie.

He tried to forget the idea by baring his teeth and summoning up all of the scorn that he could muster. "Fuck you," he snarled.

"Okay," Potter replied simply, and Draco saw what it was that was throwing him off. The ex-Gryffindor was wearing a full-on smirk. Fucking _Harry Potter_ was _smirking_ at _him! _This was utterly surreal.

"Don't joke with me, Potter!" Draco shouted, finally kicking him with the leg that had been positioned at his sensitive area for so long. But that was sort of a bad plan because the other boy gasped and fell on top of him, now making it physically impossible for him to move at all. He tried to wriggle, but he couldn't. "You have no right to corner me like this! Get the fuck off of me before I hex—er, _beat _your arse again!"

"With your prick, or—?"

Draco gasped and bit his shoulder, hard. "With your_ own_ prick, you bastard!" He looked up at the other boys, who were still watching with amusement, and glowered at them in what he hoped was a menacing way. But the ridiculous notion of Potter lying on top of him was most likely not helping his cause. "Are any of you idiots going to help me out here?"

Scott shook his head. "That depends. Are you guys fucking or fighting?"

Draco yelled "fighting" as Potter chirped "fucking" and they both looked at each other with opposite expressions of passion. "I'm serious, Potter," Draco warned, his voice low. "I don't want anything to do with you. Leave me alone."

The playful glint left Potter's eyes as the boy remembered the solemnity of their quarrel. "Please, Draco. Let me explain, I never meant to hurt you."

"Oh, cry me a river. She was kissing you and you were letting her, you swine!"

"I couldn't help it!" Potter's chest puffed up in defense, which made Draco wince a bit. "I wanted to get out of there and find you as quickly as possible, and fighting her off was just going to take longer!"

Draco shook his head. "That's such bullshit! You're a load of tripe. Why should I believe you?"

Potter closed his eyes and lowered his head. It had looked like he'd given up on his arguement before his lips reached Draco's ear and he whispered, "because everything I felt about you and everything I did with you was real. No amount of kissing Annie or anyone else is ever going to change that. Remember? You once revealed that you couldn't wait to fall in love with me, and I said that I couldn't wait to fall in love with you. But the trouble is, I think I already have."

Draco could feel the tears beginning to well up in his eyes again and he tried to swallow them back in vain. Har—Potter couldn't love him. Not the way that Draco wanted him to. "How?" he breathed shakily. "We hadn't even been together long enough for you to love me."

"Oh, but Draco. I've loved you ever since we first met. I just didn't know it until now."

He felt as if his throat had closed up and refused to give him any more oxygen and he blinked back tears as his vision began to get blurry. Except somehow he could tell that the boys surrounding them were confused and hadn't heard their quiet exchange, so an excuse needed to be made up before things got messy. He tried to think of something, but his brain wasn't functioning right. Hell, his heart wasn't functioning right. "I can't. I can't," he repeated.

He could see the muscles on Potter's neck flex as the boy took in a deep breath. "Just... you don't hate me, do you?" His voice was unusually small.

Draco studied him without knowing exactly what to say. He had yelled that when he was in the heat of the moment, but now that he had his full wits he had nothing to back it up with. Of course he didn't hate him. He wanted him, he pined for him, he was irritated by him, he was exasperated by him, and at times, he wanted him to just go away. But he could never hate him. It was actually possible that... that he might love him back just a little bit. Or maybe a lot. But Draco couldn't tell him that, not anymore. So instead of answering, he turned his head with much effort so that he didn't have to look up into that sad, expectant gaze. And it seemed that simple movement was enough of a response for Potter. The boy got up stiffly and nodded at the others, who were now just staring at the two of them in hushed silence, before walking back towards the dorm in a defeated manner. Draco stood up as well and faced the group of boys. "Don't ask," he muttered, turning to head the way that Potter went, certain now that the boy wouldn't try to talk to him again.

He heard the boys go back into their dorm, but felt a pair of hands on his shoulder. He sighed as they turned him around to face their owner. "Draco, are you okay?" Scott's light eyebrows were knitted together in genuine worry. "Really, what was that fight about?"

Draco just surveyed his face for a moment. Yes, he had always brushed off Scott and his absurdity and his rowdiness, but there was something about him right now that made him seem trustworthy. At least, for a muggle. But that didn't mean that Draco was about to gush out his entire life story, let alone his mess of a relationship with Harry Potter, to Scott. No. He had to stick up to his made-up story. Which was _what _again? "We got in a fight," he offered lamely.

"I realise that. But why?"

Draco tried to think of something in a panic. Maybe he could play it off as some sort of random fistfight that people seemed to have quite often here in America. "He's just a bastard, that's all."

Scott frowned. "What was that about him kissing some girl?"

Draco froze. Shit, he forgot that the boys were there to witness that part. Oh gods, what was he going to do? "Erm, he was kissing her and I was upset because… well, because… he… I…" he glanced down at his feet. "I… fancy her? Yes, I fancy her. And he uh, he knew that and kissed her anyway."

Scott didn't look convinced at all, because only an idiot would have believed Draco's babbling and he was no idiot. "Oh really? It wasn't just because he hurt you, or cheated on you, maybe something like that?"

"What? No! That would mean we were dating which… which no! We weren't!"

Scott looked him up and down for a few moments. His mouth was set in a straight line, which was a strange expression on the normally cheerful boy's face. "Okay. But if you want to talk about it, Draco, I'm here. Seriously. Just because you don't hang out with me or seem to like me very much, I'm here. Don't think that you're alone at this school. I've got your back."

Draco looked at him skeptically. "But you like Potter better. I know, because everybody does. Why are you always so nice to me?"

"Yeah, I like Harry, but I like you too. I'm nice to the people that I like. Do I really need to like one more than the other?"

The innocence and lightness of Scott's reply came almost as a shock to Draco. There really wasn't anybody more genuine than the boy in front of him. He was legitimately _nice_. And that was something that Draco didn't even know could be achieved. He looked upon Scott with a newfound respect. "Thanks, Scott," he answered quietly.

"Come to me if you need anything, all right? I mean that."

"Sure."

Scott smiled at him and patted his back, turning to go back into his dorm. Draco watched him go. No, he wasn't going to go to Scott for this particular problem. And to be honest, he probably wasn't going to go to Scott for most things either. But knowing that somebody unexpected cared like that, well, it gave him hope. He glanced in the direction of his own dorm and imagined Har—Potter lying in bed awake and suddenly had the strong urge to join him, fort-style. But he knew that that wasn't going to happen tonight, or perhaps ever again. He sighed and started towards the dorm slowly. And he was annoyingly aware that 'Har—Potter' was going to become a permanent resident in his brain.

**~x~**

Harry paced the dorm room, mumbling to himself angrily as Ron and Hermione watched over him with matching worried expressions. "Mate, you've been doing that for over an hour already," Ron observed. Harry ignored him and continued his pacing. His friends exchanged a few more looks before speaking up again.

"Maybe you should talk to us about it," Hermione offered.

Harry stopped pacing long enough to shake his head at them. "What am I supposed to tell you, Hermione? That I made a stupid mistake? That he hates me and probably will never forgive me? That the reason I'm all fucked up now is because he won't even look at me? Because he doesn't realise the importance of everything that happened between us and it's tearing me apart? Because I'm so in love with him that I can't ever think properly? What do you want to know? How can I possibly put into words everything that I'm feeling so that you will understand that nothing is fucking right anymore?"

Hermione's eyes softened and Ron put a careful hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, mate," he said. "We'll be here anyways." Harry took one look at their faces and immediately crumpled into their waiting arms. The embrace was somewhat awkward because of his standing position and their sitting ones, but it still meant a lot to him. What are you supposed to say when you know that a person is upset over something that was his own fault? How are you supposed to comfort somebody who didn't deserve to be comforted? Somehow, they knew. They always knew.

"You need to talk to him, Harry," Hermione commented in a low tone.

He shook his head, burying his face into her blouse. "I already tried. He doesn't want to listen."

"He's going to have to listen sometime, though."

"No, he doesn't. He hasn't listened to me for 8 years now. What makes right now different than any of those times before?"

Ron frowned and pulled Harry down so that he was sitting in between the two of them. "Because now he cares about you, and you love him. Don't say that he doesn't, he obviously does if he's so damn bothered. But I'm not going to lie, I don't care about his feelings because I hate him with an even more enormous passion than before for making you break down. And no, don't even try to tell me that it was your entire fault because I damn well know that it was, and I still don't care. You're my best friend and I hate seeing you like this. So if you want me to go beat him up—"

"No," Harry said quickly, but he smiled at him in gratitude. "Thank you for the offer, though."

Hermione beamed at Ron like a proud mother—girlfriend, whatever—and then she turned to Harry. "What he's trying to say is, we've got your back. If you want to get him back, we'll support you. If you want to move on, we'll support you."

"And if you want to hex him into next week, we'll not only support you, we'll join you," Ron piped up.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "We would not do such a thing," she scolded lightly, although her sly smile suggested otherwise.

Harry gave them a weak smile before pulling them both into a hug again. He appreciated his friends for being so understanding, he really did. But what he needed right now was a real reprimanding. Yes, it was sort of sick, but he'd rather have somebody yell at him for his mistakes than applaud him. It made him feel better in a way, like he'd gotten what he deserved. And although Draco had yelled at him briefly, it wasn't enough. He let go of Ron and Hermione and tried to look reassured when they inspected his face. He stood up. "I'm going to hang out with Neville, okay? Don't wait up for me." He had obviously failed to fool them with his look, but they both let it go. For now.

"All right."

"Be careful."

Harry slipped out into the bright hallway quietly and shut the door behind him. He headed towards Neville's dorm with swift determination to find him because the boy would surely chastise him for his actions. He always did. Harry pushed the door open once he reached it, not even bothering to knock. He was a man on a mission, damn it. "Hey Neville, I've got to talk to—" he froze mid-sentence as he met the gaze of the other occupant of the room. And it wasn't Neville's.

Blaise Zabini looked him up and down. His expression was both cool and harsh. "He's not here."

"Right, I'm just going to go now, okay, can you just tell him… actually you don't have to tell him anything, I'm leaving…"

"Wait." Zabini stood up from his chair and strode over to him. He circled him without a sound, like a hawk, and Harry gulped nervously. _Red alert! Red alert! Raging Slytherin whose best friend you've severely offended ALERT!_ "You've got real nerve, Potter, showing up in here. I don't care if Neville lives here too. This is Slytherin territory, and you've walked right into our nest." He pulled out his wand menacingly, tapping the point of it against his chin in deliberation. "So what shall I do with you, then? Hex you now, or wait for the others to come back?"

Harry sighed and closed his eyes. "Do your worst, Zabini."

The other boy raised an eyebrow. "Just like that? You're not even going to fight me?"

"No. I deserve it for what I did to Draco."

Zabini started to put his wand back in his sleeve, and Harry truly believed that he was going to let him go unscathed. But at the last second, the wily ex-Slytherin smoothly whipped his wand out again and zapped Harry with a minor Stinging hex. Petty though it was, it was still painful and he grimaced, but didn't protest. Zabini calmly put his wand away for real and smirked. "Damn right you did. Now sit down, Potter. We'll talk."

Harry nodded and sat down in one of the desk chairs next to the one that Zabini was sitting in before. Then he turned to face him solemnly. "I didn't cheat on him."

"Oh really? Because typically, when your face is squished up against a face that is not your boyfriend's, it's referred to as cheating."

Harry shook his head. "_She_ kissed _me!_ I didn't want to dance with her in the first place, but she attacked me and then she kissed me and it was utterly disgusting! Gods, it was like she was a fish and I was drowning in a murky lake—stop laughing! I'm serious!"

Zabini controlled his expression and pursed his lips. "Honestly, you're such an idiot. This sort of thing _would_ happen to you."

"So you believe me, right? I sincerely didn't mean for her to kiss me. The only one I want to kiss is Draco."

Zabini leaned back in his chair. He slipped his wand out of his sleeve and twirled it around in his fingers absently. "Yeah, I do. I never really thought you were capable of cheating, anyway. Isn't that against Gryffindor moralities or something like that?" And at Harry's wary glance at his wand, he rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to hex you again, relax."

"If you never thought I cheated, then why did you hex me?"

"Because you still hurt Draco, you know. And because I hate you."

Harry shrugged. This was true. "I want to explain myself to him," he said quietly. "But he won't let me. Do you think he'd believe me? What if he still hates me? I think he hates me. What do I do?"

Zabini sighed. "Calm down, Potter. Honestly, I'm not a love doctor. I don't have all the answers to your damn questions. All I know is that he's not an easy bloke to sway after he's made a decision. And that he doesn't hate you. At all."

Harry cheered inwardly and he couldn't help but feel just a bit of hope. He nodded and shot Zabini a sincere smile, which probably caught the boy off guard. "Thanks, Zabini. You're not so bad."

"Anytime. Well, actually, not anytime. I don't want you to think it's okay to stop by and have a chat with me whenever you feel like it, because it's absolutely not. Remember that I still hate you."

"Right, you hate me. I do appreciate that."

"As you well should. Now get out of here." Harry grinned again and stood up, feeling lighter than he had in a while. Maybe there was hope that Draco could be his again. Maybe… he just had to prove himself. Right. He could do that. Couldn't he? He made his way towards the door, weighing his options. "Hey, Potter?"

Harry turned and looked at Zabini again. "Yes?"

The boy smirked as if he could read his mind. "It'll have to be something big. He'd never settle for less." Harry nodded silently and shuddered as he left the room. Zabini might've been an odd fellow, but he certainly was clever. He wondered if all Slytherins could read minds like that. Probably.

**Author's Note: Yay! A nice, long chapter filled up to the brim with whatever it is that I wrote in there. Hopefully Harry can make Draco see the light. But Draco's a tough cookie, isn't he? Anyways, I'm thinking of squeezing this fic into about 2 more chapters, if I can. Fingers crossed! Please review, review, review!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: I think it's safe to say that I am a terrible person here for making you guys wait for so long _again_. I love you for sticking with my random writing whims and I. Or whatever. You get the picture. FORGIVE ME!**

Chapter 14

_Gods, this is a nightmare. _

Draco glowered intensely at the white-bearded old man that stood in front of him, waving his hands around with the music in a ridiculous manner. What was the point of that, anyway? Nobody knew why Dumbledore was dancing around like an idiot, or at least Draco didn't and that was all that truly mattered. It was completely mad. He sighed. Why the hell was he still in this damn choir? It's not like he was still trying to impress Potter anymore or anything. Psh, no. He couldn't care less about what the git was or wasn't impressed by. No sir. Not one bit.

Draco purposely clamped his mouth shut and stared Dumbledore in the eye, challenging him to call him out for not singing along. He'd rather take a lecture than another minute of this shit, even if it meant detention or something, though Dumbledore was hardly known for giving out many of those. Still, Draco could dream. He didn't make a sound as the rest of the group sang three more songs, but if the old Headmaster had noticed Draco's lack of participation in them, he wasn't showing it.

Draco looked around at his fellow choir members and heaved a loud, irritated sigh. Seriously, how long did this practice have to be? It's not like anybody was getting any better. Honestly, he thought that perhaps they were getting worse. He sighed again and tapped on the arms of his chair, closing his eyes and letting his head loll back. But a sharp jab in his side caused him to sit back up again and whip around in search of the offender. His eyes met the steady gaze of Ginny Weasley, who was glaring at him like he'd just sat on her pet owl. Draco frowned. That was actually quite an unpleasant thought.

"Would you sit still and participate for once?" the girl hissed, her voice low compared to the jingling sounds of music in the background.

Draco snorted. "Yeah, why don't you make me, Weasel," he shot back dryly.

She narrowed her almond-shaped brown eyes. "If you hate this so much, why are you here?"

He stared back at her, not really knowing how to reply. Honestly, he didn't know what to say. Because really, why _was _he still here? It's not like he was waiting for Potter to come to practice for once, or was trying to please him by staying in the group. No way. Because it's not like Potter had given up on him much too quickly and Draco was upset by that or anything. He had wanted him to give up quickly. _Obviously. _

"And I know that you're all friends with Harry now and you probably don't like me at all, but you can un-bunch your bloody knickers, Malfoy. I'm not going to hang around you guys." The redhead's voice was particularly grating to his ears, so Draco just turned away from her to end the conversation. _Yeah, thanks for telling me that now that it doesn't fucking matter anymore, _he thought bitterly.

Finally, Dumbledore stopped motioning around like an idiot and the music stopped. "Thank you all for attending today's session. You were quite phenomenal, as usual."

The students began to pack up their things, and Draco was _this close _to dropping to his knees and thanking whichever deity had ended his suffering. He turned towards the door with impatience, wishing to get to the cafeteria as soon as possible. Not so that he could look for anyone in particular. Just because.

Before he could make it to the exit though, he felt a hand grip his shoulder and hold him back. "Wait, Mr. Malfoy," he heard Dumbledore's whistling voice say. Draco wanted to groan and stomp all over his face. What did the old coot want _now? _"I wanted to inquire the reason why you felt it was not necessary to make any sort of noise at all during our choir lesson," the professor continued, turning him around so that they were facing each other.

"I'm just feeling a bit off today," Draco mumbled, looking down at the floor.

Dumbledore 'hmm'-ed. "But you're such a talent, my boy," he praised. "It's such a shame to see one such as yours go to waste."

Draco shrugged, not really caring. He did enjoy music and on some occasions, singing. But it wasn't really all that fun to him anymore now that he didn't have a friend to do it with him, and it was sort of a lonely existence, standing there in the choir. Even in a group of people who were all doing the same exact thing that he was, Draco couldn't help but feel alone. And it was a terrible feeling that in no way made him want to sing.

Dumbledore looked at him through the half-moon spectacles perched daintily on the bridge of his nose. "And I must say that you and Mr. Potter have quite the musical chemistry. I suggest that you convince him to make a reappearance, and you might possibly find yourself somewhat more on track," he commented.

Draco glanced up sharply. "No, sir. With all due respect, I'd rather not."

"Oh? And why is that, may I ask?"

"You may not ask," Draco replied, before widening his eyes in worry. Maybe that was a bit too blunt of a response to a man who was _supposed_ to be his instructor. "With all due respect, again," he amended.

Dumbledore chuckled and moved away to gather his lesson plans and whatever other teaching supplies he had lying around. "Well, if you change your mind, the choir and I would be delighted to hear you perform another duet. Or solo, if you wish."

Draco nodded noncommittally, heading towards the door. As he made his way to the mess hall building, he rubbed his forehead tiredly and thought about what Dumbledore had said. He _did _have a good time doing that song with Potter at that one game… and he wouldn't mind doing another one. But not with Potter, and that was the problem. Because even though the green-eyed boy was the only one that Draco _didn't _want to sing with, he was also the only one that he would ever consider to be his partner. So, in theory, he was kind of stuck going back and forth in his brain. He sighed. And it's not even like the question of duet partnership was the worst of his problems with Potter, anyways.

When he finally got into the cafeteria, the place was packed with students milling around and chatting with friends. He scowled with annoyance and went towards the massive food line in a huff. _Damn Dumbledore. Making me deal with rush hour cafeteria lines. _This was definitely a downside to Muggle schools, even the hoity-toity rich ones like Redmond. He casually glanced towards the tables, finding Granger and Weasley and Blaise and Scott and the rest of them all sitting there, laughing and eating as usual.

Draco frowned. Where was Potter? Not that he was specifically looking for him. It's just… it was very typical of the ex-Gryffindor to already be in the lunchroom at this point. The boy would have just gotten out of the Economics class, and Draco knew this because that was where he would be too if he hadn't been at choir. He sighed and backed out of the line, not wishing to eat anymore. Actually, he didn't wish to be in this room at all, anymore. He tried to ignore the nagging part of his brain that told him the real reason he wanted to leave was because Potter wasn't in here. Because that certainly wasn't it.

He walked out, letting his feet take him wherever they wanted to go, not really quite sure what he was doing anyways. He found himself heading off campus, towards the place where his mother and father had said they were staying. Draco hadn't visited them at all since he and Potter had split up, because he really didn't want to deal with their triumphant grins and I-Told-You-So's. Especially his father's. But now, he figured, it couldn't hurt. Besides, they were going to find out sometime, and Draco really didn't have anywhere else to go. He went straight up to their hotel room, not bothering to go to the receptionist to inform them of his presence. And it's not like his parents had anything better to do, anyways. Because really, what's more important than your only son?

Draco knocked firmly on their door and waited, tapping his foot on the floor with impatience. There was no answer. He frowned and pressed his ear to the door, distinctly hearing voices and laughter coming from inside. What the hell?

"Oh for Merlin's sake," he muttered, pulling his wand out of his sleeve. "I guess I have to do everything, as usual."

He whispered the unlocking charm swiftly and put his wand away, pushing the door as it clicked open. His parents better have a bloody good reason to ignore him, because this was preposterous.

And as his eyes found the occupants of the room, he realised that they certainly fucking did.

**~x~**

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

Harry whipped around to find Draco standing in the doorway, mouth hanging open and eyes blazing with several mixtures of emotion. What was he doing here? Harry had thought that Draco would be having lunch by now. Narcissa had even said that they hadn't seen him for a few weeks now, and that it was highly unlikely that he'd show up. But here he was. Harry let his eyes run up and down the blond's tall, lean figure, realising that he hadn't been able to truly look at the boy for quite a while now. And Merlin, did he miss it.

Draco's gaze went to Harry to his parents and then back to Harry again. Then, he pulled his wand out. "I _said, _what the hell are you doing here!"

Harry stole a quick glance at the Malfoys and then looked up at Draco from his place on the couch. "Visiting," he replied simply. He didn't look the other boy in the eye now because his expression would give him away, since Harry had never been that good of a liar. But Draco wasn't stupid, and he obviously wasn't going to buy Harry's story of a quick friendly visit.

"Visiting," Draco repeated, his voice sounding a little hoarse. His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Bullshit."

Narcissa stood up from her seat across from Harry and put her hands up to calm her son. "Now Draco, that is no way to speak to a guest. Although it is lovely to see you again, dear."

Draco's steely glare shifted from Harry to her and he folded his arms across his chest in a way that scarily resembled his father's hostile stance. "I want to know why the hell you are conversing with my ex-boyfriend," he demanded.

She sighed and guided the boy to a chair beside Lucius who was looking quite uncomfortable with the situation. "It's just like he said. Visiting."

Draco looked up at his mother in disbelief. "Really? You're actually backing him up now?" he studied her for a few more moments, and then turned to Lucius. "What about you, Father? Do you have anything to add?"

Lucius glanced at Harry quickly before brushing a few strands of long, blond hair from his shoulder. "No, son. I have to agree with your mother... and Potter."

Draco pursed his lips at his father as Harry gaped in surprise. Lucius had actually sided with Harry over his own son... that would most likely never, _ever_ happen again. He wasn't even sure it had happened now, the first time! Harry peeked over at Draco, watching as the boy's facial expressions changed rapidly from hurt to anger to remorse and back to hurt again. And it was understandable that he'd be upset. He had just walked in to find his parents and his ex-friend/ex-boyfriend having what seemed like a nice chat over tea. The boy was obviously confused and probably felt as though his parents were betraying him. And in a way, Harry thought, they sort of were by talking to him. But to be fair, it had taken Harry a lot of convincing and pleading and waiting for them to even _consider_ speaking with him. Basically, he had discovered that Draco's parents made the youngest Malfoy's obstinacy look like a walk in the park.

"Well, I'm not sticking around to deal with this rubbish," the blond stated, looking defiant and somewhat lost. "Next time, let me know when you're going to meet up behind my back so I don't have to waste my energy coming here." He stomped away to leave and slammed the door behind him angrily, leaving a lasting feeling of discomfort and tension in his wake.

"He's not going to be easy to persuade," Narcissa remarked, leaning back in her chair. She rested a thin, elegant arm across the back of the seat. "And neither are we," she added.

Harry nodded in comprehension. "I know. And I know that it may be futile to even try and ask, but I wanted to. Even if we don't necessarily see eye-to-eye, I want to be able to get along with you because of the fact that you are both incredibly important to him."

Lucius leaned forward, his grey eyes so perfectly matched to Draco's in colour and frigidity that it left Harry rather disoriented for a moment. "Why should we let you try and win our son back? We never wanted you together in the first place."

Harry sighed, looking down at his fingers. That was true. But if he really wanted to get Draco back, it couldn't be just a half-arsed attempt. Like Zabini had said, that just wouldn't do. And if he was going to do something big, it was almost vital that Draco's parents were okay with it. He glanced up at the two of them staring at him with unreadable expressions on their angled faces. Yes, he was aware that this could be a major challenge. But even so, he was willing to go through it and work with what he got. Plus, it already seemed that they were beginning to warm up to him a little since they didn't shoot him disdainful looks quite as often as he would have thought, and also the fact that they didn't rat him out the second Draco entered the room had been a bit of a hope-booster.

"I know that I'm not your first pick for Draco," he began. "But I promise you, I genuinely care about your son. Just… you have to understand exactly how much I need him. You know that he's always been a part of my life, whether it was in a good way or not, it didn't really make a difference as long as he was there. And now that he's made a point to stay out of it, I don't know what to do with myself. You see, he's become a part of me. He's become every part of me that doesn't understand, doesn't truly know or wish to know anything that isn't him. Gods, it's like nothing I've ever experienced before. He makes me feel light and happy and smart and dumb and loved and special all at the same time, he makes me feel as though I'm worth something. Even when he is just looking at me, or smiling at me, or just being there around me, he just makes me _feel_. He's got this thing that makes me go crazy. And I don't honestly don't know if I make him the same way, but I liked to think that I did. I like to think that I made him happy, and I just want the opportunity to try for that again. I know that you don't think that I'm anywhere near good enough for him—and I'm probably not. But I will give him everything I've got. If you'll only let me."

Both Narcissa and Lucius stared at him without saying a word for a long time, and Harry was actually bit worried that he had unintentionally confessed way too much about his feelings for Draco to them. But as the silence wore on, he wondered whether or not they had just managed to tune him out or something. It seemed like that might be a rather Malfoy-ish thing to do.

Finally, after many more agonising minutes of quiet, Lucius nodded and spoke. "Well, then it's not up to us," he muttered gruffly.

Narcissa gazed at him questioningly. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," the older man said, turning and looking Harry straight in the eye. "If you legitimately have all of those feelings for my son, then it is neither my wife's nor my decision to make. It is Draco's."

Harry sighed in relief and Narcissa smiled softly at her husband. She then turned to Harry, her mouth still curved up a bit. "Judging by the way you've been standing outside our hotel room since 7 in the morning demanding to speak with us, you've got quite a bit of nerve, don't you? But I suppose that Draco does, as well. You two are perhaps the most stubborn, temperamental, twisted, _determined_ pair of boys I have ever known." Then she laughed, a rarity to Harry's ears. Her ice-blue eyes twinkled with her laugh, a sound that he decided was quite lovely. "You're perfect for each other," she declared.

Harry couldn't help but reach out and squeeze her hand. Then he put his other hand on Lucius's shoulder, which made the man flinch slightly. "Thank you both. Really. I promise you won't regret it."

"I sincerely hope that we won't, either. Because we do wish for our son to be happy," Narcissa replied, shooting Lucius a quick look, "even if it does not seem as such sometimes. Honestly, if that were not the case, I would not have let that boy speak to me in such a brazen manner earlier."

Harry grinned. "You know, I was just thinking that. He's really going to pay for it later, isn't he?"

Lucius raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know?" he drawled.

Harry shrugged and stood up from his seat, satisfied and pleased to know that the Malfoy parents were on his side—well, somewhat. He would take what he could get. "I better get going now. I've missed all my classes and I probably will have to deal with complaints from my roommates," he said.

Narcissa walked him to the door. "We hope that you find a way to make him happy again," she whispered, tucking a small tin in his palm. It was a box of Draco's favourite snacks, and he realised that she meant for him to leave it for her son when he got back to the dorm. "Because heaven knows that he deserves it." Harry nodded in acceptance and gratitude, then looked over her shoulder and nodded again at Lucius.

He stepped outside, feeling lighter than he had in weeks. Now that he had Draco's parents' blessings, he could go about with his plan to get Draco back without a stitch of doubt. Harry sighed and kicked at the pavement as he left the building. But what if Draco didn't want him back at all? He thought back to the way that the other boy had looked when he'd seen Harry with his parents. Bewildered. Angry. Disgusted. The expression made Harry's heart ache, and he knew that it would be the very one to haunt his dreams until he could make things right again. _If _he could make things right again.

And he sincerely hoped that he could, because he found it difficult to do practically anything nowadays, since all he could think about was Draco this and Draco that and blah, blah, blah. Harry knew that everybody was starting to get tired of him always moping around all the time. Hermione and Ron had tried being tolerant of his heartsick behaviour for a while, but now they were ragging on him to either do something, or don't. And even Scott and his obnoxious buddies were being a bit more reserved around him, so that was the real indication that _everybody_ knew that he wasn't much fun to be around anymore and was uncomfortable with his glum attitude. Harry sighed. So essentially, he was useless.

As he made his way back to the school grounds, he suddenly realised that he had no idea what he was going to do next. Sure, the first part of his Get-Draco-Back plan had been successful, but he literally had nothing else. Scratching his head, he sat down on a bench outside one of the buildings and bit his lip. _Well, this is brilliant. _

Harry gazed out at the grey clouds over his head, the colour and consistency of them reminding him of Draco's eyes and making his heart ache all over again. He tried to imagine those eyes looking at him with that warmth and cheer that he hadn't seen in weeks now, but he couldn't quite get the right combination of light grey-ish blue flecks to the pure silver ones that surrounded darkened irises. Harry closed his own eyes and concentrated with all his might, wishing that his memory would provide him with a clearer vision of them. But that was the problem with memories. They faded altogether too quickly, so quickly that he didn't even get the chance to realise sooner that they were all he had left. Now he desperately needed the real thing.

Harry suddenly felt something clap over his face and his eyes snapped open, but all he could see was hot-pink shadows and he was confused. Frowning, he reached up and pulled a pink flyer off of him, then understanding that the wind had blown it there. He turned it over to read the writing on it and as his eyes scanned lower and lower, the grin on his face got wider and wider.

Because suddenly, he knew what he was going to do. Because suddenly, he knew how he was going to get his boyfriend back.

**Author's Note: Okay guys! There we have it. I think I said before that I would try and fit this fic into two more chapters, but I'm actually not so sure at this point. I have a few more things planned, so it might be a bit more. Again, I apologize for the wait. You do know that I love you all, right? Because I truly, truly do. Hopefully my love will produce a faster update for next time. So... even though I MAY not deserve it, would you mind terribly to leave a review for me? Please? **


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: Are you guys still with me? **

Chapter 15

_Drop everything now, _

_meet me in the pouring rain—_

Of all the fucking days. Draco rolled over on his side, blindly pawing at the air to stop the infernal noise blaring from the alarm clock, without success.

_Kiss me on the sidewalk, _

_take away the pain, _

_cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile—_

"Bloody love songs," Draco grumbled, throwing his pillow over his ears in wait, hoping that one of the other boys might turn it off before him. The song only continued.

_Get me with those green eyes baby, _

_as the lights go down, _

_give me something that'll haunt me when you're—_

_BAM! _There was a loud fizzle, then silence.

Finnigan and Finch-Fletchley got up to find Draco sitting upright, his wand pointed fumingly at a smoking, smashed alarm clock.

"What the hell, Malfoy? You could have just turned it off," Finch-Fletchley muttered, running a hand through his buttery blond locks and staring at the wreckage in disbelief.

"Yeah, and that wasn't yours to obliterate. Now you owe me 19.99 for that," Finnigan added. Then he frowned. "Actually, make it a few galleons. I'd rather have some spending money for when we go back."

"Sorry," Draco mumbled, stashing his wand back under his pillow. "The song was just so infuriating."

And it really had been. Why did these stupid muggles feel the need to sing about every damn thing that happened in their lives? It's not like they were anything spectacular anyways. Who cares? Draco didn't. And he'd rather be a House Elf's slave for a day than meet somebody in the pouring rain. Really, who the hell does that sort of shit?

He shook his head, carefully smoothing out his blankets and making his bed for the day. Absently, he noticed that Potter was not in bed, yet again. The boy kept sneaking off places in the middle of the night, disappearing at random times, making dumb excuses to leave class. Really, it was like they hadn't even left Hogwarts. He could just imagine Potter's scruffy head of hair popping out from behind an alcove, his brilliant green eyes roaming the area excitedly—

Draco bit his lip. Not that he cared about those eyes at all. He thought of the song again and how the muggle singer had absolutely praised the power of that particular colour. What was so great about green eyes anyways? He never heard anybody singing about grey eyes. What made green better than grey? It was actually sort of insulting. Draco sighed and finished making his bed, then sat down on it and watched Finch-Fletchley and Finnigan move to do the same with theirs.

In truth, they really wouldn't have anything to do for a while, except sit here. Because it was 4 in the morning, for Merlin's sake, and they didn't need to wake up until 6. A revolting time of the day, since it was too early to try and get anything coherent done, but too late to get back into bed and fall asleep. Draco scowled. Obviously, some stupid bastard forgot to turn off the alarm.

"By the way, nice job setting the clock Malfoy," Finnigan muttered, and Draco could only blush and glower at the floor, remembering that it was indeed he that had done it the previous night.

Damn it.

He was still slightly pink when they all went down to breakfast hours later, now with Potter in tow. At least, for a couple of minutes anyway. The boy had looked distracted and sleep-deprived as he rushed into the hall, grabbed an apple, and then rushed back out. Draco rolled his eyes and sat in his usual seat, shooting a tired grimace at his roommates as they went to sit in their respective places.

"Whoa, what's gotten into you three?" Blaise asked, glancing over at Draco, Finch-Fletchley, and Finnigan with a frown. "Looks like you got run over by a train or something."

"Or something," Finnigan remarked. He jerked his thumb in Draco's direction. "Sunshine here set the alarm for four in the morning, and we haven't slept since."

Blaise snorted, and Draco hmmphed in annoyance. "I said I was sorry, didn't I? And you better not call me that repulsive name ever again, Finnigan."

"Hello Sunshine, how's it hanging Sunshine, lovely, lovely Sunshine," Finnigan insisted, laughing and ducking from Draco's rising hand, "I'll call you whatever I damn please. You owe me."

"You know, it's actually sort of catchy," Finnigan added, an uncharacteristic half-smirk on his face. "And it's pretty cute."

Draco glared at him and Finnigan, as the other boy was still laughing. Had he known at the beginning that these boys would get so comfortable around him to the point of friendly teasing over the school year, he would have never let his guard down for a second. He could only imagine what his little 5th year self might have thought about him sitting here at a table, being laughed at by a former Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. He would have a fit!

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, with an eye roll. That was all he could manage now. Merlin, he was getting soft.

"It's true, you are cute, Draco," a nauseating, familiar female voice piped up from behind him.

He turned around, an icy glare already formed on his face. Why didn't this bitch just give up already? "I'm sorry, I don't believe that you were a part of this discussion," Draco managed slowly, keeping his voice controlled and his body stiff in efforts not to jump up and hex her right then and there.

The small group remained in hushed silence around them, watching the two with tense uneasiness. Practically everyone here knew that Annie was the cause of Draco and Potter's mysterious riff, and they were undoubtedly curious as to what was going on.

The brunette girl only smiled, flashing her pearly white, pointy teeth effectively. It reminded Draco of a feral cat, and he shuddered. "I realise that you and I haven't gotten the chance to properly get to know one another yet. I think that's silly, so I should just come out and ask you if you want to be my lab partner today for chemistry."

Draco gave her a disgusted look. This girl was obviously daft. Because honestly, what the hell was wrong with her? "I've got a partner already, thanks," he replied coldly, putting a steady hand on Finnigan's shoulder and causing the other boy to raise his eyebrows in surprise. Thankfully, he just went with it. "And even if I didn't, I wouldn't work with you if you were the last person on this planet. So please, get lost. Preferably where you can never find me again."

The girl turned around and walked away, but there was still a smile lingering on her face. It was then that Draco realised that he would need to do a lot better than that to truly convince Annie that he would never care for her. He groaned and returned to his breakfast moodily, attempting to come up with possible ideas in his muddled up brain.

**~x~**

_It had been so worth it. _

Draco clutched a tiny, white slip between his fingers and grinned as he walked down the empty hallway towards the principal's office, whistling absently. Annie had been so wrong to mess with him today, seeing as he had little sleep and little patience. Plus, Malfoys were not ones to be messed with in general. And now she knew that.

He gleefully recalled the incident that had happened only a few minutes before when Draco's experiment had "accidentally" exploded, causing Annie (who had chosen to sit in front of him, stupid bint) to be caught in the chaos. She had freaked out, of course, screaming and crying before throwing her head into the classroom sink. It had been rather hilarious to watch. Unfortunately she was fine afterwards, but half her head of hair had been burnt off as a result, and so he supposed that the sheer ridiculousness of her new look would have to be enough for now.

Draco smiled again. Bye bye, brunette. Bitch had it coming. And that explosion was absolutely spectacular, he was _so _glad that he had chosen Finnigan as his lab partner. Even though the boy didn't particularly do anything that he wouldn't have normally done, Draco owed the Irish lad his life for his accidental pyromatic skills.

Instead of going into the office, Draco headed straight towards the exit, turning the slip to ashes in his left palm effortlessly. There was no way that he was actually going to get into any sort of trouble for this. He knew that Snape wouldn't go into the matter too much, as Draco _was _his godson and favourite student. The professor had looked quite pained to give Draco the slip in the first place.

He made his way to his regular bench outside overlooking the soccer field, slumping down in his seat and sighing in contentment. He was not one to simply skip his classes, but he figured that today would be an all right exception. Draco thought back to the chaos in chemistry class, the smell of burnt hair, the crazy look on Annie's face. At one point, he had even snuck a peek at Potter, who had been stifling back a barrel of giggles, his eyes shining bright with amusement at the situation. And even though he no longer spoke to the boy, he felt that that had been a shared moment of revenge for the both of them. For the pain and disorder and tension it had caused them.

But he knew that it would only be a temporary relief. Draco understood that Annie was the cause of the problem, but she wasn't the root of it, because the root of it had been there ages before she had, years even. Draco and Potter were both too stubborn, too prideful, too determined to put feelings first, and it was those attitudes that would forever be the downfall of them. Because maybe they would try and be friends again, maybe they would even become more. But it would always come down to the same problem, the downfall of a relationship that would never really work in the first place. And the thought of it made Draco undeniably sad.

Just then, a flash of colour by the field caught Draco's eye, and he glanced down sharply. Potter was standing there, waving his arms around and speaking into his little mobile. The boy had some sort of bright parchment with him, and he seemed slightly exasperated as he shouted into the speaker. Draco wondered idly how Potter had escaped Snape's class. Surely the man would have kept an extra eye on the mischievous bespectacled boy. Draco eyed Potter suspiciously as he paced around the area, standing at certain spots and marking something on a clipboard, and afterwards making sphere shapes with his hands as some sort of measurement towards the ground. Draco frowned. What the hell was he doing?

Draco shook his head and stood up, careful not to let Potter see him as he walked away aimlessly. He honestly didn't know where else to go, seeing as he wasn't particularly keen on going back to class, or back to his dorm room. He hadn't tried to visit his parents since last time either, so that was also out of the question. And now his favourite spot had been taken over by Potter as well. _Merlin, that boy is truly the bane of my existence, _Draco thought bitterly, kicking at the fresh, green grass beneath his feet.

The spring air was crisp, morning fog still covering the skies and the sun that surely hid behind it. Draco shivered and pulled his jumper closer around him, wishing that he could wear his heavy robes right now. Really, it was quite inconvenient, the way that these muggles dressed. He could not wait to go back home and wear what he wanted to wear again, and not to mention say and do what he wanted to again. It was rather exhausting having to hide the fact that he was a wizard for a large portion of the day.

Draco looked around, realising that his legs had taken him back to his dorm building, and he sighed. The windows to most of the rooms were shut and dark, but there was one up on his level that was open and light. Draco then remembered that Nott didn't go to his classes all the time, and decided to go pay him a visit. It's not like he had anything better to do anyways. He entered the building, careful not to let the administrators at the front desk see him, and darted up the stairs to his floor. Nott's door was shut, but Draco could see the sliver of light on the ground and he knocked quietly. The door swung open immediately and Nott was indeed there, gazing at Draco in surprise.

"Hey, mate. Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

Draco smirked, pushing past the other boy gently and entering the room. "Aren't you?" he countered.

Nott grinned back. "Touché." He shut the door and made his way across the room towards a small white box, which he opened and pulled a drink out of. "Soda?"

Draco made a face, recognising it as some sort of muggle delicacy that he had yet to try. It didn't look terrible, but he wasn't going to take his chances. "Um, that's okay. I'm good."

Nott shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said, popping the cap off and taking a large swig of it himself. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve afterward and then proceeded to sit down on the bed. "So, what brings you here today?"

Draco joined him. "I don't know. I'm just bored, is all."

"Heard you set some girl on fire. S'true?"

"Where'd you hear that?"

Nott pulled his mobile from his pocket and tapped it with a finger. "Blaise was rather excited about it. Sent a mass message out to most of the people on our floor, though I reckon many of them were in that class."

Draco snorted. "Typical."

"Why did you do it anyways? Just having a bit of a laugh?"

"Yes, and other reasons."

Nott raised his eyebrows. "Like?"

"Like, I don't happen to like her very much."

"Ooh. Annie whats-her-face."

Draco peered at him curiously. "Did Blaise tell you that too?"

"Nah. I just know that you don't like her. Because of the thing with Potter, or something."

Draco cleared his throat in discomfort. "Well, yeah. And I don't know, it's complicated. She's just a bitch."

"She's not very bright, from what I've heard. Anyways," Nott set down his drink and got up to retrieve something from a nearby desk, "I've been told to give this to you when I had the chance. They're tickets for the upcoming soccer match."

Draco tentatively took the envelope that Nott handed him. "Uh, who told you to give these to me?"

"Neville."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "And since when do you take orders from Longbottom?"

Nott scowled. "I'm not taking orders, I'm just doing him a favour. Besides, it'll be fun. It's the championship game and lots of us are going to see it."

Draco's stomach churned at the thought of having to go watch Potter run around and be the natural superstar that he was. He had avoided going to matches ever since their little tiff, making excuses by saying that he didn't like the sport very much or that he really wasn't in the mood to go. And while that was all mostly true, he knew that the excuses wouldn't work forever and clearly, Longbottom had figured that as well.

"You know I don't fancy soccer much," Draco tried, already half-expecting the disapproving shake from the other boy.

"Nonsense. You used to go to every game before your fight with Potter. Come on, it's not like you even have to talk to him or anything, he's going to be playing. It'll be a good time, I promise."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Fine, all right. I'll go. But I'm not going for him, or for anyone else. I'm going because I damn well want to."

Now it was Nott's turn to roll his eyes. "Right."

The two of them lounged back on the bed, idly discussing this and that for a couple of hours. Draco left right before school let out, wanting to catch Finch-Fletchley or Finnigan when they came back into their room. Just because he missed classes didn't mean that he wasn't going to get his homework done on time. He was a Malfoy, after all, and Malfoys always got perfect marks.

**~x~**

Gods, this was a stupid game. This was _such_ a stupid game. Why did he agree to go to this thing again? Draco shivered in his seat, wishing that he could go sit on his bench and away from these people who were cheering on the soccer team with shouts and screams and other things that were just plain obnoxious. Really. It was all just incredibly stupid. And it wasn't due to the fact that Potter was clearly kicking some serious arse out there, his mop of hair flopping around his eyes, which were glowing and taking no notice of Draco's presence at all. Not in the slightest. But that didn't really put Draco in a better mood, either.

He rolled his eyes at Weasley, the utter epitome of stupid game behaviour, who was jumping up and down for his friend and yelling encouragements, all while holding Granger's hand and stuffing mountains of food down his throat. The sight was quite revolting, actually. Draco was starting to plot ways that he could escape back to the dorm without one of his friends seeing and bringing him back to the game. But unfortunately, he hadn't discovered an effective one yet, and now Blaise and Pansy were keeping an unusually sharp eye on him.

Draco watched sullenly as Potter kicked around the white and black checkered ball between his feet before sprinting towards the goal at maximum speed, never once losing it. And as the game wore on, it went like this. The other team's centre forward was quite a challenge though, and he scored goals every other time that Potter did. The way that Potter's eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened reminded Draco of the way that they used to play Quidditch together, rivaling over the snitch rather than a soccer ball, and he suddenly wished that it were he that Potter was competing against instead of that other unnamed boy. Just so that Potter would look at him again, like that or in any way. Like they could go back in time, erase all the things that had happened between them since they had arrived here, and start over. And wouldn't that just be perfect?

It was nearing the end of the game, and both sides were tied. Potter had the ball between his feet again, dribbling it as effortlessly as ever, but the other forward was gaining on him quick. And although Draco wouldn't admit it to anybody out loud, he was on the edge of his seat, waiting with baited breath and wide eyes.

Potter was already halfway across the field, so fast that his body almost appeared to be a blur in Draco's eyes, and his leg bent back, muscles tensing, to kick the ball into the goal and win the game for them. But just as he was about to do the deed, the dark-haired boy stopped and put his arms up.

"Time out!"

There was a flurry of whispers and voices as people tried to figure out what he was doing.

"What's going on?"

"Can he _do_ that?"

Draco sighed and leaned back expectantly, waiting for whatever it was that Potter was going to do. _Of course he can do that, he's Harry Potter,_ he thought, with a bit of dry amusement.

Potter gathered his team, giving them short nods and pats on the back before quietly asking for the microphone from the announcer, who gave it to him with a bewildered expression. Draco watched with curiousity as the team members took a large bag of soccer balls and began to spread them around the field in an organised manner.

"Sorry to interrupt the game, folks," Potter said cheerily into the microphone, causing the murmurs to die down and people to listen. A spotlight fell on his broad figure, making it easier to see him in the dimming light of the evening. "But there's something that I've _got _to do before I win this thing."

The boy winked cheekily and then turned around to face his team members, who had all stopped moving around the field and now stepped back to reveal their masterpiece. Draco stared down at the display in shock. Each one of the soccer balls were painted a brilliant, emerald green, and were arranged in large block letters that spelled out one word. He gaped at it for a few moments, not realising that Potter had moved from the centre of the field until he was almost blinded by the sudden ray of light shining blindingly in his face.

Draco squinted up to find the boy standing right in front of him, smiling so sweetly that it reached his eyes. "Draco," Potter murmured softly, and his heart almost burst at the sound of his name coming from that mouth.

There was a slight gasp in the audience as Potter pulled out a single red rose from behind him and held it out for the other boy. Even Potter's teammates were staring at them with astonishment, as evidently the green-eyed boy had not told them whom he had been directing his gesture at.

Potter cleared his throat. "I know that you're angry with me, and I know that you might not want to have anything to do with me right now. But please, please just give me this one chance to prove that I can be better. And I promise, I _can_ be better," he shifted his feet nervously and placed the plant in Draco's unmoving hand. "It's true that I've made mistakes, and you've made mistakes too. But that doesn't mean that we can't fix them together. And I know that this is sort of silly, but I thought that it might be a good place to start."

Draco stared at the rose lying in his palm, and then back down at the word spelled out with soccer balls on the field.

_Prom?_

He looked back up at Potter, his heart suddenly racing with anticipation and a bit of fear.

"So with that, I must ask the question. Draco Malfoy, will you go to prom with me?"

**Author's Note: Yay, prom! All right, and there you have it. A bit of a romantic gesture on Harry's part. Sorry that this is sort of a shorter chapter, I didn't want to drag it out too long. I know that I'm tired of writing bitter Draco and sad Harry, and you're probably tired of reading it, so hopefully we'll get somewhere in the next chapter. And I know that I wrote this entire chapter in Draco's POV, but I didn't particularly want you guys figuring out what Harry's plan was until the end ;) (if you hadn't figured it out already)**

**Anyways, so the song at the beginning was Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift, because I thought that it might be a cute idea to reintroduce her music as an unwelcoming alarm in the morning for Draco. And of course, I had to incorporate the green eyes thing. **

**And the part with Annie and the explosion, I rather enjoyed writing. It was something that I had previously discussed with my friend amateurwrit, (this is a shout out!) and I think it's wonderful because I love revenge. Okay, that's enough for now. Thank you all for reading, and hope you enjoyed! I'll be back, sooner or later xoxo**


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